Waking up
by PegasusFriend
Summary: There was no hope left for him. So he thought. And there was no hope left for her. So she knew. Two people meet and find what they had been looking for desperately. Until the past catches up and old wounds are opened. Romance and action, enjoy! Many thanks to Sattwa100 for beta reading my story!
1. Chapter 1

The end - or the beginning?

This is how low I've sunk. Again I'm shaking uncontrollably with these damn seizures. The intervals in between the seizures had been getting longer and longer. At last I had hoped I had left them behind completely. But now they are back. Wracking my body like the curse they are. I had been out in my garden when this one came on. They always come down on me in the most inopportune moments. I will just have to wait this out. The rain and my mood … and the arrival of the next owl bringing me the cash of my last potions sale. I do work for a living. But only so I can get by, or just about get by. I don't need much. And I don't want for much either. In fact, what I want most is to be the last person on this planet. To be alone. Completely. Utterly. Alone.

The sound of this word alone fills me with hope. To find a place where I can be just the snarky, old bastard I am without having to mind anything or anyone. It's been 20 years and still not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of what I had to go through. Of what I had to do. Of the things I've lost and of the things I destroyed. Back then I ran, thinking if I got just far away from it all, I could let go. Pretend it never happened. I thought I could forget and in time find a new life for myself. But you cannot run away from yourself. Because wherever you go, you are already there when you get there.

I tried. After I barely escaped death and woke up alone I decided to make a run for it. I thought I would just quietly leave the country and find some place far away where nobody knew me and I could set up a little shop. I already saw myself in some small Romanian village where the people were superstitious enough to keep their distance and buy my potions for all their petty ailments. And there I could have stayed. In the quietness that comes with being a stranger in a strange land.

But it was not to be. I realised quickly that it would never come to this. I was suffering. The after effects of my injuries proved more severe than I could have anticipated. For days on end I was left lying in some ditch or some old barn shivering and cramping uncontrollably. I had nightmares to such extend that I did not want to go to sleep just to avoid being taken hostage by this terror which seemed to consist of an endless repetition of my worst moments and most terrible deeds. I ended up hallucinating for lack of sleep and thus still seeing the demons that were haunting me. In short, I was a wreck, physically and psychologically, and there was nothing I could do about it. I stayed on the streets and walked all over the British Isles. Back and forth and wherever else my feet carried me. I couldn't tell today what places I had been in my first or second or even third year. Everything seems shrouded in a hazy veil of denial and despair. My condition lasted for years. I could also not say now when I started to improve. It was gradual and excruciatingly slow, but on some days I managed to actually appreciate the sunshine or the sound of the waves as they crashed into the shore. And after years it seemed I could even accept that I had survived. Well, I existed.

My hopes for any kind of ordinary existence I had already given up long ago somewhere along the way on my travels. It wasn't even a painful thing to do. I accepted that I would never be anything more than a tramp on the streets. And it was OK for a while. Eventually when I got tired of freezing in the winter and being wet in spring and fall and too hot in the summer, I found myself this old ruin and did it up to meet my needs. I don't think I could deal with much more anyway. The thought of a structured life with all its rules and demands was a horror to me. I didn't think I could find my way back and I still don't. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be then. Maybe this is the just punishment I deserve. For all the wrong I committed, for all the hurt and pain I caused. For all the expectations I did never fulfil. And it's alright.


	2. Chapter 2

It was perfect. The perfect little cottage. It couldn't be better. It was everything a cottage should be in her eyes. It was relatively small with a big garden surrounding it. It was built from the natural stone of the area which was a dark grey granite. The windows and doorframes were white and it had two chimneys: one for the open fireplace in the sitting room and one for the AGA in the old-fashioned country kitchen. The kitchen floor was stone-tiled, the other floors were wooden blanks worn smooth by the years of use and regular care with polish. The roof was slate tiled and the bathrooms, two all together, where new. It was just perfect. The way she had always imagined her cottage to be, and for the rest of her life this was going to be her cottage. Here she would spend her remaining days with her parents and the occasional visit by her brother. And should anyone else choose to visit, they could sleep in the guest room. But she doubted anyone would come. She had already said her good-byes and she had pointed out she wanted them to remember her the way she was then and not the way she would look in a couple of weeks once the cancer had eaten her all up. No, here she could be at peace, close to the sea, which was literally just down the path. So even when the end was near it wouldn't be too far for her to sit there and listen to the waves. Or so she hoped. She had no idea how bad it was going to get. And she didn't want to know. She would just make the best of it. No point in complaining anyway, it was not going to change a thing. Lamorna Cove would help her deal with it though. She had fallen in love with it when she'd first been here 10 years ago and since then it had not let go of her. She loved this little piece of land in between the rocky cliffs of the Cornish coast. To her, it was paradise, it was all of God's magnificence put into the colour of the sea, the colour of the sandy shore, the colour of the rocks and the colour of the sky, no matter what the weather was. And the lush greens that grew in abundance completed the picture. She loved the smell of the water, the breeze and the cries of the seagulls and if she had to die, this was going to be the place to be. Here she would die happily and she silently thanked God that he had allowed her to witness such beauty.

She was shaken out of her reverie by her father who had come up behind her. He stood there silently. As silent as he had been most of the time since she had had the news. It was hard for her parents. She knew it. Her mother had been more vocal about her grief. She had cried and cried… and cried more when she thought Sophie didn't look. She had been devastated. To Sophie's face she tried to be brave and strong but Sophie strongly suspected that her outward acceptance was merely a show she put on to try and not make it even harder for her. Sophie hoped she would find peace again someday. But knowing her mother it was not going to be anytime soon. Her father had cried too, in his quiet, withdrawn way. And he had become very silent. Not saying much, not asking much. Just being there. And she loved him even more for it then she had always done. He had always been a strong presence but now his unquestioning, quiet support meant even more to her. She relied on it. She knew with him there she could face it and not go mad over it. To her brother it had also been a shock. He was very much like their mother and he found it very hard to deal with it. He had no idea how to behave around her anymore. The easiness with which they had always exchanged their banters, was gone. She so wished she could keep this from him, but she couldn't. She hated the thought that she was causing him so much distress.

At least she didn't have a family of her own she would leave behind. For a long time, she had prayed for her own family, for a husband and children. Now she was grateful she didn't have them. It would be even harder to have to go so soon. 38 years. She wasn't going to complain. She had had a good life.


	3. Chapter 3

The owl screeched when it took off. He was tempted to shout after her to stop complaining. After all it was only one little vial it had to transport. But then again, he didn't know enough about owls to know if it was really the load she was complaining about or the fact that it hadn't received any treats.

With this delivery done he deserved a cup of tea. The weather was fine so he decided to take it out on the small deck he had built. It was his favourite spot. He could sit there and watch the sea. And occasionally he would watch the people down in the cove. He had found the ruin of his little dwelling place by chance and thought it was the perfect hideaway. It was close enough to people to remind him he was not alone in the world but far enough away from them to hide it effectively and make himself a spectator rather than a partaker.

He pulled his chair into the right position to look down into the cove and watch the beach and the walkers. The coastal path led close by but his magical protections made sure none of these muggle walking enthusiasts came too close to his cottage. It was one of the first things he had done. Only after he had erected strong muggle repelling charms and even stronger wards against magical intrusion had he begun to build the little house back up again. It had taken a while and he had to work mainly by night but then he had accomplished it and had created a dwelling that suited his needs perfectly.

From the cove, it was not only protected by the steep climb up the cliff on which it sat, but also by two huge piles of granite boulders that looked like they had been stacked there by giants. He suspected the muggles piled them up there when they made the cove approachable for the small fishing boats of the locals. Him it served well. The rocks had just about hidden the ruins of the cottage so when he had taken possession of it and set his charms to work, nobody remembered the ruin anymore and nobody thought to go there to check what had happened to it when it was suddenly not visible anymore at all.

He stretched out his long legs and surveyed the scenery before him.

A new car was parked in front of the Sunnyvale cottage. Undoubtedly a new batch of tourists. He only hoped they were a little more civilised than the last group. He had had to go down there and hex their stereo or whatever that little thing was that had made such noise.

He saw a woman going down the path that led down to the beach. If she was alone she wouldn't be much trouble. It was a warm day for June and yet she was wearing a cardigan and had her arms firmly wrapped around herself. Obviously one of those muggle females that were constantly freezing. In his opinion mainly due to unhealthy lifestyle and lack of exercise.

He directed his gaze back out to the sea again. Even up here he could hear the waves. Looking out at the sea gave him a sense of calm. Even knowing that there was no redemption for him, it still held a peace that seemed to extend even into his heart. It was that peace that had let him decide to stay here. After he had tramped through the country, up and down, east and west, he had finally decided to settle down here. And he was happy with his choice. Here he would wait. Wait for the day that he would draw his last breath … and then see her again. He was still thinking of her. Not as frequently anymore as he used to. He thought it was probably because he had accepted his new situation. He was content with living out the rest of his life away from everybody and only with the occasional owl as only link between him and the world he had left behind. He had built up a remarkable little trade with potions, mainly through channels that reached beyond the eyes of the guild of potioneers and that meant his customers were willing to pay extra for high quality potions that could not easily be obtained the legal way. It allowed him a comfortable existence, actually he made more than he probably ever be able to use up, but the spy in him told him it was good to have some reserves. One never knew what was waiting around the next corner.

But he had never forgotten her. Especially her eyes. Sometimes, on stormy days, the sea near the beach would turn the same colour as her eyes had been. Then he would sit outside on his porch and stare into the water. Sometimes for hours. There were days when he wondered whether he was a masochist who desperately wanted to hold on to that pain. Other days he was aware that this pain was all he deserved. After all it was his fault. All of it. He should have known better, should have chosen wiser. It was only just that he was now paying the price. In fact, he had hoped that on that fatal day, when the decision had seemed imminent, he would find a way to fulfil his duty and then die. Preferably fighting. That would have been the quickest and cleanest solution. He hadn't expected the attack that had then met him, but he was also not fighting it too much. True, panic had gripped him at first. Fear, that he might die without passing on the information. And then this little insufferable brat had shown up at his side. Even had tried to stifle the blood. Out of nowhere. And then it was alright. He managed to do what he had been ordered to do. Fulfil his last orders. So he had passed on in peace. Or so he had thought. What a nightmare when he woke up only to realize that this torture that others called life, was going to continue. In a way he had almost felt betrayed. Cheated.

Clouds were moving in from the west. It was probably going to be raining later tonight. He thought about going down to the little tea shop by the shore. They served an excellent sea fruit salad there. It was his occasional treat to enjoy it with a glass of their abominable white wine. He did sometimes feel the need for human interaction. And muggles were a far safer option than his own kind. He would decide later. Now he first needed to head back into his lab and clean up.


	4. Chapter 4

Suddenly she felt very tired. They had unpacked the car and carried all the things they had brought over from Germany into the cottage. Her mum had packed too much. Probably thinking they were going to be here for quite a while. Sophie hadn't had the heart to tell her otherwise. The doctors had indicated it was not going to be long. Or maybe her mother had wanted to give her strength and courage by behaving like this was going to be a long wonderful holiday. She didn't know. And frankly, she didn't care.

But now she was too tired to take the car back to Penzance to go shopping. She remembered there was a little tea shop down by the shore. She knew they served food. It would do for tonight, whatever they offered and tomorrow they could go to Penzance, have a look around and do the shopping on the way back.

She presented her parents with the plan and they didn't object. They had not objected anything she had said recently. It felt strange. Before they had always been giving her their opinions, welcome or not, and had never held back with criticism. Now they just nodded their heads. It was very strange. It felt like another little piece of normality which had been taken from her. She almost wished her mother's strong opinions back. Almost.

When they arrived, they went straight inside. Although there were a few tables with benches and chairs outside from which you could watch the sea and the cliffs while enjoying your meal. But the wind had picked up and Sophie was already feeling chilly. The inside was furnished in a very basic way. Almost like a chippy in town. But Sophie knew this place had a lot more to offer. They took one of the small tables by the windows and waited for the menus. Ten years ago, she had been here to take a break while walking the cliff path and she still remembered the amazement with which she had beheld the dish that had been served at the neighbouring table. She had asked the couple at that table if she could take a photograph of their meal and then had her camera shoot the most beautiful and mouth-watering seafood salad she had ever seen. And she had promised herself if she ever came here again, she would order this very salad and enjoy every last bite of it. Today she would do just that and the roll herself up back up the hill to that cottage, because if her memory didn't fail her, the salad was also going to be huge.

She eagerly took the menu that was handed to her by the waitress and quickly skimmed through it and… yes, there it was: seafood salad. She was going to love this. Even if it was very improbable that she would be able to hold the food inside for very long. Her parents, after having heard her description, joined her in her choice and the waitress soon brought the drinks. Sophie was contentedly gazing out the window when a black head appeared in her view. It walked up the door and entered. A tall man with long black wavy hair entered. The hair continued into his face in the form of a long black and grey beard which easily reached his chest. Apart from a long, beak-like nose, there was not much else that could be distinguished in that face. Only the eyes, which had quickly scanned the room upon entering, sparkled with interest and seemed to be proof of a lively intellect. The man walked to the counter, picked up today's newspaper and walked to the very back of the room where he placed himself in the farthest corner possible. Sophie could only watch him walk past and didn't pay any more attention to him, instead resuming a conversation with her parents on all the things she wanted to show them. There was so much here that really let you appreciate the beauty of god's creation.

When the salads arrived, she tucked in enthusiastically. The disease and the treatment she had undergone in vain had left her stomach in a very bad state. But she wanted to at least try and stuff herself with this culinary masterpiece. The plate looked so delicious, the food was arranged beautifully and her eyes shone with excitement when she took in the variety of fresh delicacies in front of her. There were steamed mussels, fried clams, small, red crabs, and small grilled fish of which she didn't know the English names. Everything was neatly presented on a bed of green leaves in a long, rectangular plate and garnished with wedges of lemons and different, decorative flowers. Sophie quickly took a picture to post it later and then picked up the fork to start her meal.

She didn't manage all of it but she enjoyed it immensely. Her mother and her father, having finished their own plates were all too willing to help with her left overs. It was simply too delicious. But after all that food she felt very tired and just wanted to get to her bed, so they made their way to the counter to pay. When turning to the room while her father settled the bill, she noticed the man with the beard had also ordered a seafood salad. She smiled watching him eat while reading the paper and wondered whether he still appreciated the food here or whether he just took it for granted. Just then he looked up and stared right at her. For a moment Sophie just held his gaze, not quite sure how to interpret his directness.

"Nobody ever told you it was rude to stare at other people?" came a low snarling voice from where he was seated.

Well, that answered that question! More than a little embarrassed Sophie quickly turned away and since her father was done, darted out of the little café's door first.

He looked after her with a slight smirk, which no one could have ever seen since his beard covered it up very neatly. He had watched her when they had risen to go over to the counter. She looked fragile. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was wrong with her. And then she had turned and openly stared into his eyes. At first he had been taken aback, feeling embarrassed that she had caught him staring at her. But he knew his emotions didn't show on his face. He had had the best, or the worst master, depending on which way you chose to look at it, who had schooled him in controlling his features. He had stared back and for a moment allowed himself to enjoy this openness and the honest interest that was in her stare. And her eyes. They were big and brown. A warm, deep brown colour that spoke of welcome and a soft heart. Something he had long left behind for himself. And just when he felt he could lose himself in her eyes, he saved himself by lashing out at her. She was like everyone else confronted with his sourness, she retreated. Just as she should.

He returned to reading his paper and left a little later to make his way back to his cottage on the cliff. By the time he went to bed, he had almost forgotten her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

A week later Sophie and her parents had settled in nicely. They had developed a routine where they had breakfast together and then either went to do some shopping or make a little trip to one of the many beaches along the coast or other sights like St Ives. There was so much Sophie still wanted her parents to see. She wanted them to understand why she loved this place and wanted to create happy memories that her parents could then take back home with them when all this was over. And it was OK. They took it slow and when Sophie tired they would find some nice place to sit and she could gather her strength for their trip back. The afternoons would normally be spent in the garden, with tea and a book, or down by the sea shore, listening to the rhythmic sound of the waves coming in. Today she wanted something a little more exciting. She wanted to try and walk a bit of the coastal path. She remembered there was a lot of up and down and the path was not always easy, but she wanted to experience the freedom again she had felt the first time she had been here. She wanted to smell the spicy scent of the flowers and bushes that grew along the path and that released their aromas when they had been warmed by the sun. And she wanted to feel the cool breeze of the wind on the cliffs while looking out at the turquoise waters below. Her parents took a bit of convincing but in the end, they gave in.

They set out after breakfast and her father carried a backpack which was filled with everything needed for a nice picnic on the cliffs. The walked slowly with lots of brakes and just before noon they stopped for their picnic. Her parents were just as bewitched by this place as she had hoped they would be. She couldn't stop smiling. It made her so happy to see the wonder in their faces. The weather was perfect too. There were sunny spells but not too many so they didn't get too hot. Mostly there were light grey clouds. The colours of the sea and the plant life around were still vibrant and lively so they contrasted perfectly with the clouds.

The spot they had chosen for their picnic was a group of boulders on top of the cliffs. They were warm and afforded an unhindered view of the sea.

Just below them was a small sandy beach. There was no obvious way down there but Sophie couldn't resist the urge to go and find one. She got up to make her way back to the path.

"I'll be back in a moment."

"Where are you going?" her mother was ever anxious, especially in her condition.

"I'll just go to take some photos." She knew her mother would have tried to stop her if she had said she wanted to go down to the beach. But as far as Sophie was concerned there was no more reason to be careful about things. She would soon be unable to do what she wanted to do so she had to make use of the time she still had.

She walked back to the path and followed it down. The she turned off it to the right where she found a few rocks she could use to get closer to the cliff edge. There, just through the rocks, there was a way down to the beach. She could do that. She gingerly climbed down, carefully making sure she set her feet right and always had someplace to hold on with at least one hand. Down on the beach, she immediately sat down to take of her shoes and roll up her trousers. There was no way she would leave this beach without having waded through the water.

Looking up she saw a black form dropped over a boulder on the other side of the beach. It was half hanging in the water and the waves were gently flapping dark fabric around. That was a human form! Sophie hurried over and made to turn the person around. Long, black and wet hair was everywhere and she couldn't make out a face. When she grabbed the fabrique to turn the person around, she felt the clothes were soaking wet. The person must have been in the water. She pulled, but the body was too heavy. She tried again and pulled harder. This time she heard a low grunt as response.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Are you all right?"

She tried shaking him. Another incoherent exclamation of either pain or confusion. She had to get him out of the water. Even if only his feet were in the water now, he was all wet and would undoubtedly be cold to the bone. With all her strength, she pulled and finally the body moved. She had to jump out of the way as it landed with a splash in the shallow water at her feet. She took his arms and bit by bit pulled him up on the dryer part of the beach. She crouched beside him and pulled all the hair away from his face. It was the man from the café! The one who had chided her for staring. He looked very pale and his lips had started to turn blue. She had no idea what to do. But she knew her father had had a first aid training. He had worked as electrician in a big factory and with every maintenance team there had to be one person trained in first aid. Her dad had been his team's first responder so he would know what to do.

"Babba!" No answer.

"Babba!"

"Yes, what's wrong? Sophie, where are you?" Her mother. Her father probably hadn't even heard her.

"Mum, I'm down on the beach. I found someone. He needs help. Send father down!"

"What? How did you get down there?" Her mother's head appeared on the cliff above the beach.

"There is a path through the boulders on the side over there. Can you send father down now? This man really needs help."

She could already see her father's head appear by the boulders. She thanked the Lord for her father's pragmatism. He didn't talk much, he acted.

He quickly looked the man over when he had made it to the beach.

"Pulse is normal and he is breathing. I think he is just unconscious. But we should try to warm him up and get help, just in case. I will go back up and get the picnic blanket. You stay here and see if you have a phone signal."

Sophie fished her cell phone out of her pocket and unlocked the screen. No, not a chance. Maybe a bit further up on the top of the cliff. But she would have to wait 'til her father was back. And it didn't take him long to return with the blanket and his wife in tow.

"I will try to lift him and drag him on the blanket. You pull the blanket under him when I lift, OK?"

"Jup, OK."

They wrapped him up in it.

"Do you have a phone signal?"

"No, not a chance. I could try a bit higher up on the cliff?"

"No, you stay here with him. You speak the language best, so if he wakes up you will be able to talk to him. I will go to the cliff top and if I can't get a good signal I will go back to the next cove to get help."

Just in that moment there was a low moan from the blanket. Sophie was down on her knees beside him and gently prodded him.

"Sir? Sir? Can you hear me? Sir?"

Another moan and flickering eyes that didn't quite manage to open.

"Sir? Maybe we should give him some water? What do you think,Babba?"

And then his eyes shot open and he grabbed her arm in a vice like grip. Pulling her towards him, his head came up and his eyes were torn open wide. A long gasp escaped him and then he grimaced in pain as he was shaken with severe cramps. He rolled to his side, forming a tight ball and waited for the wracking pain to subside. He was shaking all over.

"Oh sh… he is having some kind of seizure. We have to do something."

"There is not much we can do." Her father bent down and started to turn the man around again. Then he went through his pockets.

"Babba, what are you doing there?"

"If he had this before he might be carrying some emergency medicines which we can give him. No, nothing." He sat back in his haunches. "I will get help, you stay here with him. They will probably pick him up with a boat, so look out for them."

They heard a loud groan.

"Did he say something?"

"I don't know, I didn't hear him right."

Sophie got closer, bending down to his face.

"No… no help. ...Am..fine. Just...need a ...moment."

"He says he is fine and he doesn't want help."

"Well, he doesn't look fine to me."

"Yes…. maybe we should just wait a moment. I mean, he should know his condition best and if he doesn't think he needs help…"

After all the treatment she went through she could more than understand the wish of any person to be master of their own bodies and to have a say in what was being done to them and what not.

"But what if he doesn't know how serious his condition really is and just thinks he is OK?"

Her mother was always for helping, no matter whether you wanted help or not. It made Sophie almost smile.

"Mum, I think he would know if something was seriously wrong. And if he isn't better in a few minutes, Babba can still go and get help."

She tried to drape the picnic blanket around him more firmly and together they waited for the cramping to subside. It really only took a few moments and the shivering visibly lessened.

When his breathing had normalised again, she addressed him again.

"Are you feeling better?...Sir?"

"Yes."

"Do you need help sitting up?"

"No."

And he didn't. He sat up gingerly, but still all on his own. Sophie could see his fingers were still slightly trembling, but he acted like he didn't want her to see so she pretended not to have noticed.

For a moment they were all there by the beach not saying a word. A group of four people and no one knowing what to say. Sophie felt it was a rather bizarre situation and it seemed so did the stranger. He made to get up and Sophie's father was quick to help him. The stranger obviously only accepted reluctantly.

"Thank you. I will be alright now."

He handed the picnic blanket back to Sophie.

"You are wet to the bone, the wind is chilly and you hands are still not steady, so I doubt your legs are much better. You are not alright."

Ah, well there was one more of these opinionated muggle women who thought they knew everything better.

"I said I am fine, so fine I will be."

He would give her one more chance to withdraw with grace.

"Nonsense. Stop being difficult and behave like an adult."

He could hardly believe his ears. Her words were deeply insulting and yet there was no aggressiveness or belittlement in her voice. On the contrary. A deep crease between her brows gave the distinct impression that she really worried and the soft tones with which she delivered these words along with the care with which she draped the blanket back around his shoulders again left him speechless for a moment. He was not used to such treatment.

"I… I can assure you I am perfectly capable to take care of myself again now."

"Yes, I am sure you are. But let's just walk back up to the path together again, shall we?"

How could he get rid of them? If they were gone he wouldn't have to climb up those rocks to get to this stupid path. He would simply apparate himself back to his cottage and sink down on his bed.

"I will stay here another moment. You go on. There is nothing more for you to do here." He tried to take off the blanket again. "Thank you for stopping, but I will be fine now."

"Yes, why don't you keep this around you a little longer. You are soaking wet and the wind is picking up."

"I'm fine. Just leave me be, woman!" Now that was more like himself again. A nice measured glare to accompany the outbreak and he should be well rid of them.

"Listen, you were just lying on your back, cramping like mad and shaking like there was going to be no tomorrow. I will not leave you on your own down here. I won't. So, you will either accompany us up to the path and back to the village or my father will go and get professional help and we let them take care of you. Your choice."

Great! Now what? And the glare she gave him could have rivaled his own. It was clear that her determination would not be broken easily and he was simply too tired and worn out to keep up the fight. Short of knocking them all unconscious there was really nothing he could do but go with them. He silently motioned for her to lead the way.

They made it up to the path and he made one last attempt to get them out of the way, and yet again he was thwarted by her insistence to watch over him. He could not very well explain to her that all would be much easier for him if he could just use his magic. So he resigned to his fate and trotted after her, her parents following them. They walked in silence, which was at least a small blessing. She walked slowly, and in his present condition it suited him well. All the same it also riled him. What did she think he was? A geriatric mummy? He wasn't that old after all.

"You don't have to walk at a snail's pace, you know. I will be able to keep up." He sincerely hoped that he could live up to this boast.

"I don't doubt you can, but I can't.", she panted having just made it to the top of the next cliff.

"Oh for … God's sake." For a moment he had been tempted to say "Merlin's sake"! He would have to watch more closely what words he used around these people.

"You can't be serious! A three year old can walk faster than that."

"Yes, I bet they can." she smiled. He could not see it, walking behind her, but he heard her smile. How could she smile when he insulted her? Or did she think he would give up if she pretended not to be stung by his comments? Well then, he was going to find out how far he could take this.

"Are you one of those …( not muggles, think of another word, quick) ..people that waste away their lives in front of a television screen and neglect physical exercise? I am well older than you and just had seizures and still could walk faster than you."

"Well, you should count yourself lucky that you can then."

"That has very little to do with luck and everything with regular exercise and not sitting on my bum all day."

She laughed. She laughed? Really? Right. This little saint needed to be brought down a notch or two. No way would he suffer this merry and forgiving attitude for the rest of the way.

And he did his best for the best part of the next half hour to try her patience. But nothing he said got any other reaction than smiles or polite answers in return for his snide comments. He just couldn't believe it. This woman was infuriating. In the end he just resolved to keep his mouth shut. And besides, his legs were getting tired. Her mother said something from behind. He had learned a little German. Well, he could read German. Many old potions books were written in German and he had taught himself to read them. But the spoken language was something else entirely. Also they seemed to use a special accent.

Sophie answered in English. "Yes, you are right. We should take a break."

"Already?" He just couldn't help it.

"Yes." smiles again...Arghh!

"I am tired. I need to sit down for a moment."

"You really have no stamina at all."

"No, I haven't. And I'm sorry I'm holding you up. Why don't you go ahead with my dad and he can make sure you get back to Lamorna safely."

"I certainly don't need a babysitter."

She was gingerly sitting down on a rock and grimacing. And she still panted, although her pulse should have normalised by now. Even for an unfit person, this wasn't normal.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I just need a break."

Now he had her.

"Oh, so you go around and telling people how to take care of themselves, and uninvitedly impose your will and opinion on them and when you clearly can't even manage to breath properly anymore, you say you are OK?" There now, yes. She was looking up into his face and the bloody smile was gone.

"I'm sorry. You are right. I should never have insisted you come with us." Oh no! That was too simple! He had hoped for a bit more spirit there. This was most disappointing.

"No, you should not have. I am a grown-up man and can certainly take care of myself. At least better than you obviously can."

She hung her head at that. Too easy. No fun. Oh well.

"I still appreciate your help."

No answer.

"Sophie?" Her mother came over with a distinct note of worry in her voice. Again she said something. He thought she asked whether Sophie was ok.

She just shook her head at that. Oh come now. He really hadn't been that harsh! If this little exchange already made her cry.

Her mother said something to her father who came over and talked as well.

"Excuse me, but what's going on?"

And then Sophie just fell forward. He had only just time to stop her from landing on her face on the rocks before her.

"Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?" He managed to pick her up in his arms and sat her back down on the rock she had just involuntarily left.

He slapped her face gently.

"Come on, this walk can't have been that hard on you."

She did come round again, but she was terribly pale.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm … I'm not so well."

"You don't say. Couldn't have guessed. And what exactly is this being unwell?"

"Cancer."


	6. Chapter 6

Cancer. He knew that the muggles often had no way to cure it. And the treatments they administered were often more destructive than successful. At least her appearance made sense now. Her sallow skin, sunken in eyes and puffed up face, the absence of hair she was trying to hide under a cap. They way she held herself when she walked. Not straight and lively but slightly bent forward and gingerly, as if suspecting any moment for her limbs to give way.

"Well, you won't be able to walk back."

"Yes, I will, just give me a moment."

"Nonsense!" he quickly scoped her up in his arms and started off down the path again.

"No, wait! You need your strength to recover from the seizures."

"Nonsense again! I am very much better than you are and if you don't want us to spent the night on the cliffs than this is the best option, or do you imagine your father would be able to carry you back?"

"My father isn't that old!"

"Is he able to carry you?"

"...No."

"I have made my point then."

He had had the chance to mutter a little spell while lifting her. She was almost floating in his arms, practically all he had to do was keep his arms under her. He would manage the small distance back to Lamorna Cove, drop her off by the cottage, leave her parents to fuss over her and be on his way back to his cottage. He couldn't wait for the hot shower and the following steaming mug of strong tea. He would enjoy that.

"I'm sorry."

"What's that?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"You just had really bad seizures and now you have to carry around on the cliff path."

"As I said, I do not wish to spend the rest of the night here. And anyway, even if I had not had a seizure you would not have made it back to the Cove on your own."

"Yes I would have, I did walk all the way to the beach by myself as well."

"Physical strength is a limited resource. The more you spend, the longer it takes to recover. If you already spent what little strength you have left on walking there, you would not have made it back."

"Goodness me…"

"What?"

"Are you always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Arguing purely on a logical level."

"Of course. Logic is the only logical level of argumentation."

"And why is that? Because it is derived from the same word?" she sniggered.

"No," he said, rolling his eyes at her wordplay "because it is impartial, follows a continuous train of thought and is easily understood...at least to people with a minimum of intelligence. And, most importantly, it is free of emotions."

"What's wrong with emotions?"

"Nothing, if you can keep them well under control. But in my experience people tend to keep very little control on their emotions, which brings about all kind of unnecessary complications."

"Dear me…"

"What now?"

"Do you really believe what you say?"

He couldn't quite understand what she meant by that.

"Of course I mean what I say. Why else would I say it?"

"Another logical argument. You seem to be made up of logic."

He detected the slight hint of sarcasm in her voice and glared at her. But again she seemed unfazed and just smiled back at him. He couldn't understand, why the other day at the café she had ran out the door after his remarks and glares. And now she just looked up at him and smiled. He was losing his touch.

The rest of the way was mostly passed in silence except from the occasional remark about seagulls, flowers and some words to her parents. He kept silent. When they walked back into Lamorna Cove he carried her the last few steps to their cottage and then set her down while releasing the spell.

"You will manage from here I trust." He made to turn around and be on his way.

"You can't go yet. You must dry off and get warm again!"

"Believe me, carrying you for the better part of a mile has gotten me quite warm, thank you very much."

"But who is going to take care of you?"

He snorted. "I was not aware I appear so helpless."

"You really shouldn't be alone now!"

"And why, pray tell, not?" This woman was trying his patience and it started to show.

"What if you get another seizure? What if it happens to be worse that down by the beach? Who will be there to look after you and make sure you're OK?"

"I don't need anyone to look after me." He was turning to leave her by the door with her parents.

"Please!" There was an unmistakable intensity in her words. He stopped and turned to look at her.

The pleading was genuine! He could see the worry in her eyes. Though why a complete stranger should worry for him was beyond him.

"Please?" it was a quiet plea. And big brown eyes looking up at him with such earnest. He should just walk away. Really. Just turn away.

"Oh, alright. Stop bothering me already."

She couldn't completely hide the smile and probably didn't want to, but it was not a triumphant grin, it was genuine relief. There was more to this than she let on. That was for sure.

They went inside and Sophie showed him the bathroom, equipped him with towels and some of her father's clothes and then left him to a blissfully hot shower. He did like the bathroom and shower. It was a lot more comfortable than in his place and the shower had some additional features he had never come across before. It took him a moment to figure it out but he did enjoy the massage function and especially the one where thick drops came down from the shower ceiling as if it was rain. Muggles did have some good ideas.

He dried his hair with his wand and only turned the hair dryer on so they wouldn't ask questions. But that thing would not get anywhere near his hair. His father had forbidden his mother to use her magic to dry his hair. In fact he had forbidden her to use magic at all. So she had to dry his hair with the blow dryer. She came too close to his head one day and some of his hair got sucked into the back of this demonic contraption. He remembered quite vividly the pain and the tears as well as the berating by his mother for being so snivellish. He could feel the old beast of anger and hatred come out of the dark again. He had hated his father for all the things he had done to his mother and him… and he had resented his mother. She had never stood up for him or had tried to protect him. What on earth she had seen in this muggle son of a bitch was still beyond him. But he didn't want to go back to that again. He had learned in the many hours of solitude spent in the cottage that he could simply leave these feelings. He did not have to linger on them. He could leave them, pack them away in the back of where ever it was that he kept emotions and concentrate on something else entirely. There was nobody there that taunted him or irritated him further. It was just himself with his emotions and the silence around him. So there was no need to be contemplating all these hurtful memories. He could just pack them away and be done with it. And this little technique had helped him to cope. It was also the reason why he cherished his solitude so much. And yet, when this little muggle thing had looked at him with her big brown eyes, he had simply given way. Was he unconsciously craving more contact with others? And what was it with him and girls' eyes anyway?

He decided that even with this hellish muggle invention his hair should be dry by now.

He had very seldomly worn any other colours than black, white or grey, so her father's blue jeans and red t-shirt were a challenge. But it wouldn't be for long and they wouldn't know about his wardrobe so it mattered little, really.

Coming out of the bathroom he found his way into the cosy living room in which a fire was happily crackling and a tea set was waiting patiently on the couch table.

"There you are! No don't you feel a lot better already?"

He had been brought up with manners even though he not always chose to use this particular knowledge. But he did not want to be rude this time.

"Yes, I feel a lot… dryer… thank you."

Why he was holding back, was beyond him. She was infuriatingly nice. Like sweets that get stuck in your teeth and make you sick from all the sugar.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please."

She put a cup in it's saucer and placed it from the tray on the table.

"Sugar, milk?"

"Milk, no sugar, thank you."

She poured the tea.

"Why did you ask how I take my tea?"

"So I know what you would like in it." She said, reaching out for the little milk jug.

"You… don't take tea often, do you?"

He tried to put it as politely as possible…

"What do you mean?"

She looked up, about to pour the milk into the steaming tea.

"You don't add milk to the tea."

"What? You just said you want milk, no sugar?"

"Yes, but you add the milk before you pour the tea!"

She looked at him with an unbelieving expression.

"Does it really matter? Or are you just having me on?"

He was about to mutter something along the lines of barbarians with no culture, but managed to hold back by taking a deep breath.

"Of course it matters…" he tried to explain patiently. "By adding the milk first and then pouring the tea on top, the milk is slowly warmed to the tea and thus manages to develop the creamy taste which is desired. If you first pour the tea and then add the milk into the hot tea, there is no chance for the flavour to fully develop."

"Right… hmmm… I'll just try again with another cup, shall I? You are right by the way, me and my family usually drink coffee instead of tea."

Poor souls… he had always felt pity for those pour continentals that had never managed to learn the fine and cultivated palate it took to appreciate good tea. He had no doubt the tea she served came from those little bags so many muggles preferred. He found them abhorrent. Making tea was an art and he was a master. That he knew.

"Is it terminal?"

She stopped dead and looked up at him, then looking over at her parents who were seated on the couch waiting for their mugs and busying themselves with their tablet computers.

She looked back at him and answered: "Yes." Then hurried to continue with the tea.

"How long have you left?"

This guy had nerves! Or no sense of tact whatsoever. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? If he continued her mother was bound to break out in tears again.

"Some time."

Maybe he would just let go now.

""Some time" is a very imprecise answer. Or where your hea.. I mean your doctors not able to specify it more accurately?"

"I'm not sure I would have wanted to know, even if they could have told me." she answered with an edge in her tone.

"Not if you are afraid of dying."

"Well, isn't everybody afraid of it?"

"No, not everybody."

"Oh really? And you're going to tell me now that there is nothing to fear about it and that you are not afraid of it at all?"

"In fact, I did once nearly die. And I was terribly disappointed when I woke up again still alive."

"What?" she was really getting angry now and that idiot didn't even notice.

"I was injured and thought I would not wake again when I closed my eyes. I was grateful for it, not afraid."

"I don't believe it! You have experienced the mercy of being allowed to live on and behave as if it was a curse!"

"It was a curse to me…"

"You ungrateful idiot! I cannot believe it! I am dying! I would give my left arm if I was allowed to live! And you, you were allowed to live on and are complaining about it?"

Oh dear, it seemed he had really made her angry.

"I didn't com…"

"Do you know how many people are right now saying goodbye to their loved ones? Knowing that they will never see them again? All of them would be happy and grateful for a little more time. Just like me. In a few weeks time I will never see another sunrise again. Never see the sun setting again. I will never hear the sound of the waves again, or feel the wind in my hair again. I will never again see my parents faces or feel their hugs and their kisses. I will never see my dog again, my beautiful, wonderful dog! And you are complaining about having to live on!"

She had shouted at him and ended her speech in tears, falling back on the armchair she was in. Her mother was by her side instantly and gathered her up in her arms to comfort her.

He felt strangely touched by her despair. No, he felt her despair. And it burned in him like a searing pain. Her father caught his eye.

"I think you should better go now."

"Yes… I will take my leave."

He rose and was about to turn but couldn't quite tear his eyes from her crying. She had completely broken down. And he was sorry. He felt it deep inside him. He hadn't wanted to make her cry. A new kind of guilt. But guilt all the same. Maybe it was all he was good for.

He turned and went home to his cottage.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a week now. He had spent it mainly locked up in his lab. The advantage was a nice sum of galleons which the owls had delivered as payment for the potions he had finished and sent during that week. The disadvantage was that he kept thinking about her.

She was right in a way. He had survived and she was dying. But what had he survived for? He was just sitting on this damned rock and waited for death while she could still have had a life. That path was not open to him. He had nothing to live for. Lily was dead and so was the Dark Lord, the reason which kept him alive and struggling on after Lily's death. The Potter brat had survived. He had fulfilled his promise. But there was nothing left for him after that. He had managed to find some contentment in his solitude here but he would never call it a life. He was merely trying to make his remaining years bearable. And he had never had any expectations that it should be differently after he had come to terms with the fact that he was still breathing. Sophie was still young, at least compared to him. And what he knew of her, told him that she had family, friends, things and people she loved with passion. It was really unfair that she should have to die with all that there when he was alone and wished he could die but had to struggle on. And with everyday that he thought about it, he felt more and more guilty. He was alive and she would die.

He also realised that his remarks had not been appropriate and since at some point he had to take her father's clothes back anyway, he decided that he would apologise. He didn't quite know yet how to say it but then he did not have to storm down there immediately. He resolved he would think about his words and go see her when he had made up his mind about what to really say without making it sound too emotional and without upsetting her even further.

But things came differently as they usually do. He was just returning from one of his outings to collect ingredients a few days later and darkness was beginning to settle down. Coming into the cove from the western end of the cliff path, he saw her sitting on the rocks down by the water front. He would have to pass her to get to his cottage. Apparation was out of the question since he was too close and the noise would attract attention. He inexplicably felt a slight sense of panic beginning to rise. He wasn't ready yet to confront her, or better himself, with his inappropriate behaviour… but then again he had waited for an entire week and more for the right words to come to him but they hadn't. Maybe it would be best to just get it over with and be done with this. He tried to calm himself by telling himself it wasn't as if her acceptance or rejection of his apology would make any difference to his life here and now. She would die and be gone. No matter how awful he behaved.

He made his way down the path and watched her, expecting her to turn every minute and see him coming. But she didn't. She kept looking out to the sea, completely lost in the rhythmic sound of the water and the dancing light of the setting sun on it's surface.

He approached her from behind and when she still wouldn't acknowledge his presence, set his basket down and came up beside her.

"I think I owe you an apology."

He had spoken softly so as not to pull her to violently out of her revery.

She still looked surprised to see him there, but collected herself swiftly and answered with a smile.

"No. I need to apologise. I overreacted. Completely. I have no right to judge you or your views on life. I have no idea what you have experienced in your life so you may have good reason to feel the way you said you do. I was simply overcome by what I still perceive as a great unfairness. I thought I might have accepted by now that this is the way things are and that no amount of complaining and no amount of bitterness and anger will change that. But it seems I cannot find that acceptance within me. I am truly sorry I let it out on you."

He stood there looking down on her, looking into those sincere brown eyes again and felt completely lost for words. She apologised for his lack of tact and sensitivity. He felt something inside him give way and for this moment he pitied her more that he had ever pitied anybody, including himself. He lowered himself on the rock beside her and together they sat in silence watching the waves. And to him it was a comfortable silence. Somehow with the pity had come the realisation that she was no danger. She would soon be gone and he could be himself here without fearing to be hurt. When the sun had set and the temperature dropped he helped her up and walked her back to her cottage.

"If it is agreeable to you I will come by tomorrow to return your father's clothes."

"Oh yes, I had almost forgotten. Sure, I'll be here."

"I will see you tomorrow then."

He slowly walked back up to his cottage. There was a feeling inside him he had not felt for… he wasn't sure, it felt like he had never felt it before. He felt… content. That must be the word to describe it: contentment. It was warm and comfortable and it was calming. He wasn't sure why all of a sudden he felt this way. He could only guess. He tried to trace it back. It must have come while they were sitting by the water. He had always liked the hypnotic effect the waves had on him but this time it was not the usual melancholy that accompanied it. It was this contentment. He stopped and looked back to her cottage. Was she the reason? Or was it just because she had apologised when it was not her place to do so accepting a blame and guilt that should have been his to bear and thus taking a burden from him like no one had ever done for him? He didn't know, but then, did it matter?

The next day he walked down and was greeted at the door by a suspicious looking father.

"Good Day to you. Sophie is expecting me."

He did try to be civil.

Her father stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. His eyes never leaving the face of the man who had made his daughter cry.

"I hope you will not make her cry again." he said in his broken English.

Snape looked at him but knew that whatever he said was not going to be believed, so he just left it and went into the sitting room. The room was stifling hot, yet he found Sophie sitting in the armchair closest to the fire with a blanket around her and a book in her lap.

"Hello. I have brought the clothes back."

"Hey, hello!" She greeted him with a warm smile which he couldn't help to return.

"Thank you, have a seat I will put on the kettle." Her mother appeared to see who had come and scowled at him when she saw him. An exchange in German followed at the end of which Sophie sank back into her armchair again.

"My Mum will fix the tea."

"She isn't too pleased I'm here." It was not a question, more a statement.

"Yes, well, they are very protective of me."

"I do apologise…"

"Never mind, let's just forget about it. What has passed is passed."

He smiled again. Her pragmatism was refreshing. He had hardly come across this character trade in females.

"Are you worse today?"

Again she was surprised with which disregard for tact he spoke about her illness. After all she hadn't known him for long and yet he asked her questions about her condition as if he was an old acquaintance. Maybe it was his way not to beat about the bush and she would just have to accept this in him.

"Well, I'm very cold and shivering all the time. I'm not in pain though. The dozens of pills I take are taking care of that."

He nodded.

"I hope you don't find my questions regarding your condition impertinent…" ah,... so there was an awareness for the awkwardness of his questions!

"...but I have a partly professional interest."

"What is your profession?"

"I'm a maker of natural remedies."

"Oh… what kind of remedies?"

"Nothing as advanced as cancer to be sure...just for little aches and ailments. Nature offers a surprising stock of medicinal substances."

"I'm sure it does. Do your remedies sell well?"

"I can't complain."

"Have I heard of your products before? What name do you sell them under?"

Ah… now he hadn't expected this reaction. Usually muggles smiled benignly when he mentioned his natural remedies and thought him one of those strange, hippi-esque people that live an alternative lifestyle in denial of the real world.

"Uhm.. no, I can't imagine you have. It is a small business,... I'm selling mainly to locals."

"Well, if your products are good, maybe you should consider selling them on the net?"

"On the what?"

"The net…? The internet?" She couldn't believe there was anyone who had never heard of the internet before. Surely he had just misheard.

He had heard this word before and was aware that it was something to do with these infernal machines all muggles were using these days.

"Oh, yes of course… no I don't think that would be advisable. I produce only in very small quantities so as not to endanger the stock of natural growing plants of the area."

So he also had environmental awareness. Sophie liked that a lot in people. She had always tried her best to leave as small a mark on the surface of this planet as possible and valued it when she met people who were conscious of the effect the human population had on all other planetary life forms. And she was grateful he hadn't offered some obscure plant with near miraculous properties that would cure her. She didn't believe in this kind of medicine but she also didn't want to alienate him by turning such an offer down.

"I'm sorry… but I think we have never really introduced ourselves to each other. I just realised I don't know your name?"

"Indeed… we haven't. My name is Sam Ashworth."

"Sophie Gerolstein. Please to meet you, Sam. Or should I say Mr. Ashworth?"

He was taken aback by her addressing him by his given name but he was also aware that muggle customs and wizard customs were in some respects different. And really it didn't matter what she called him.

"No, Sam is fine." With that her mother entered the room with the tea tray. They spent the rest of the afternoon cosily sitting by the fire, sipping their teas and talking about the most meaningless subjects imaginable. Normally he would have never lowered himself to such idle and useless chatter; the weather, the changes of the seasons, the water temperatures and the grocery shopping in town which led to a discussion of cooking and ingredients. But all through this conversation it felt natural and relaxed, not forced or embarrassing. And the topics allowed him to talk without giving too much about himself away. He enjoyed it. And he was surprised he did. When they said good-bye later on she even asked him to return and have tea again. Whenever he liked she had said. He had non-committedly grunted a response, but already knew he would be back.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few weeks he went back there regularly. They had tea or went down to sit by the water's edge, or just enjoyed some sunshine in the sheltered garden. Sometimes he accompanied her into town and they walked by the seafront or went to have tea in one of the little cafés. Sophie enjoyed his presence and was always pleased to see him, greeting him with her warm smiles.

He enjoyed the easy way with which he could talk to her. There were no expectations involved and she never asked him questions about his personal life after he had made it clear once that he wasn't going to partake in this topic. If this bothered her she wasn't showing it. She accepted him even on the days when his moods were a bit darker than usual and sometimes just sat with him while he silently contemplated his fate. It was as if he had found a safe haven in her company that allowed him to be himself without having to justify himself and without being constantly reminded of his guilt and his past. With her he felt just like he imagined any other man felt. Every other person that had not done what he had done or seen what he had seen. At first he had gone down every third day, then every second day and soon he went there every afternoon. He was surprised it wasn't affecting his potions work. Actually it was quite to the contrary. He was more productive and could only explain it to himself by deciding he was more concentrated and spent less time brooding.

Sophie's situation was unchanged for quite a while but at the end of the month he noticed that she was less willing to walk down to the water and grew slimmer than she was already.

Another week later he came for their usual afternoon appointment and found her in her customary armchair by the fire.

He was just about to greet her when he noticed that she was sleeping. He turned and walked back out not wanting to disturb her and met her mother in the hallway.

"She is sleeping, I will come back later."

"She has been sleeping all day. Yesterday the only time she was awake was when you were here."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"She likes you a lot."

He was slightly embarrassed by that statement. But he noticed how she looked down and her eyes started to mist over.

"It won't be much longer now."

"What do you mean?"

She looked up at him surprised.

"You know that she is leaving." She couldn't bring herself to say "dying".

"Yes, but didn't they say it would take months?"

"No, weeks. And those weeks have past faster with every day and now there is not much time left."

He looked at her speechlessly and open mouthed. He couldn't think of what to he left the house and went back up to his house, the further he got the faster he walked. Blindly, without realising it, he was standing in his small kitchen leaning on the work surface and breathing hard. She was dying. He had known it. Of course he had known it. But somehow it had seemed abstract and far away. He had forgotten about it. No, he had consciously ignored it. And now it had become real again. She would be gone.

No more afternoon teas, no more sitting quietly by the sea, no more walks through town and exchanging funny comments on all the different people that could be viewed there, no more meaningless chatter about this and that, no more feeling welcome and accepted, no more smiles. It would all be gone. It would all be like it had been before she came. And that's what he had wanted, right? That's what he had accepted would happen once she was gone, right? Right? Yes, he would go back to working in his garden, picking his ingredients and brewing his potions. He would busy and … alone.

He went to the cupboard and got out a bottle of whiskey. He hadn't done that in quite a while. Over in his sitting room he opened the bottle slumping down in his armchair and not even bothering with a glass.

The next morning brought storm and a gigantic headache. He really wasn't used to this anymore. In his still sleepy mind he had forgotten the reason for his overindulgence but once in the shower it all came back to him. She would leave him. And she had no idea that he was just shedding tears about it. In the shower he could fool himself and pretend it was just the water that was wet on his face. When he came out he dried himself off and went back to the kitchen to put on the kettle. He fought down the feelings that were trying to come to the surface. The feelings of loss, of betrayal, of loneliness and the memory of grief. He fought and tried to distract himself with executing his everyday tasks for the preparation of his breakfast.

He sat down at the table when he was done and stared down into his plate. He really didn't feel like eating. In fact he felt slightly sick just looking at his meal.

She would be gone. And he would be alone again. He knew he couldn't run away from these facts. It was going to happen. If she was a witch it would be different, then she would live, there would be help for her at St Mungos. But then again they would have never began their… "friendship" or however it should be called. He left his breakfast untouched and went to his lab trying to concentrate on his brewing but still mulling over possible solutions to his problem in the back of his mind. The solutions always came back to the question of how much this relationship meant to him and how much was he willing to give?

And by the afternoon, when the time for his usual visit was approaching, he felt another question needed to be answered: would he be able to sit by and watch her die? Would he be able to accept that this was the natural order of things and therefore he had to let her go because she was a muggle and as such not entitled to the help his world could give?

He sat down on his lab chair and crumbled, his face hidden in his hands. He knew he would not be able to do that. Too much death and destruction had already been thrown his way and he could not stand another one. He resolved to take the only possible path that was open to him now, the only way he would be able to preserve his fragile self: he would end all contact with the family and not go down again. He would view this episode as a welcome distraction from his otherwise lonely existence not to be repeated but to be thankful for. And he would let nature take its course. He knew he was a man of his word. And it made him sad. But he didn't have the courage for more and he needed to protect himself. With these thoughts he sat with his face in his hands and hidden tears running down into them. It was better this way.


	9. Chapter 9

Sophie waited for him. Her mother had told her that he had been there and had promised to come back later. But he didn't. She waited the next day also, and the day after that but he never showed up. She couldn't even be angry at him. She knew it wasn't a pretty sight to watch her slowly deteriorating. But she had so gotten used to him. His dry and biting humor, his intelligence and even his short temper. She found much in him she liked and much that amused her. She also liked his voice… it was so wonderfully deep. She loved to listen to him. Sometimes she asked him questions about plants just to her him speak. Not that she wasn't interested in what he said, but mainly she just wanted to have these warm deep notes wash over her in the calm and controlled way he spoke in. And she loved his presence. That same calmness radiated from his entire person. It made her feel safe and protected… not that she had to be scared of anything or anyone, but his presence made her feel like nothing in the world could harm her. How ridiculous to think like that. And to feel like that.

Sophie had always been alone. She had gone out on dates and had tried to meet men, especially in the last few years when she noticed her time to start a family of her own was running out. But she had never wanted a closer relationship with any of the guys she had dated. After two or three dates she always knew they weren't right. Or at least she had thought she knew it. She had wondered if she was going about it the right way. Was there anything like what she was looking for? She always had thought that if she met the right man, she would automatically know it. She would just know he was right. She was sure it must be like shopping for shoes. You go from one shop to the next and you can do that all day but in one shop you will see them: the one pair that makes you want to scream with joy and call out "You were made for me!". And she had waited for this same feeling to come with the right man. But it never had. So was there anything like this? Or was love different? Was it more like finding someone you could tolerate and then just being open for more and see where it led? Waiting for a feeling of being in love to come with time? She had prayed about it, prayed for God to send her an answer, or, preferably, the right man. But neither had an answer come, nor the right man. And then she had received her diagnosis and her whole search for her future had come to an end. She had thought then that this was the reason why God had not sent her a partner. He had never meant for her to be here for that long. And so she had accepted it. She had accepted that she would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man, to feel the passion and lust that the right person could invoke or to feel the giddiness when he entered the room and smiled only at you.

And then Sam had come along. Sam, with his sarcastic smile and his dark eyes. His long, black and wavy hair, the beard with the hints of gray. The long, crooked nose, which she found so aristocratic. She felt so drawn to this man. In a way she had never felt for anyone. And she was angry at herself that she did. Now, right now, when her life was coming to an end her stupid heart had decided to fall in love with someone, who, even if she was to live, would probably not even think twice about her. At least not in this way. She had thought he only came down to see her because he felt sorry for her… or maybe she was really just a subject to study for him. But no, she had really had the feeling that he had enjoyed the time with her. So why wasn't he coming anymore? She was fading. And fast. She knew it wouldn't be long now. And she so wished he would be there. So wished she could hear his voice and feel his soothing presence. But maybe he couldn't face it. Witnessing death was not something everybody could stomach. She would just have to let go of him like she had let go of everything else. At least her parents were still with her. Now that the time was getting closer she was getting a little scared. And she was thinking about what would come. Would it hurt? Would she feel it when her heart stopped beating? Would she see the blinding white light? Would there be total darkness and nothing more? Or would she really be facing God and be judged for her sins? He would have a lot to judge then. Would he be forgiving? She had felt God's presence in a lot of moments in her life, she silently prayed he would be with her on this last moment as well. She didn't really feel fear anymore. She felt nervous. Along with the pain that was the hardest thing to feel. It was like she wished it would already be over but the next moment she was scared of what would come then and then again she wished she could be rid of the pain and be done with it. It was a constant up and down and thinking of him sort of took her mind off of these thoughts. And how much easier to bear would it be if she had him to talk too? She couldn't tell her parents that she was scared. It would break their hearts and they would be feeling even more helpless. But she longed for someone to talk to about it. Someone, who would not look at her with pity and sorrow. So in a way his detachment when they had discussed her condition, had always helped her. Where was he now? Her father had carried her outside and she was sitting in the garden. She tried to look up to the coastal path to where she knew he had always walked down when he came to see her. Strange, she had never asked him where he lived. And lots of other things she had never asked about after he had rejected her first attempts to learn more about him. She hoped he hadn't thought her insensitive or self-centered when she hadn't asked any more questions about him. Her thoughts kept spinning around in her head in this manner and she wouldn't come to a conclusion. It felt like her brain was in overdrive, as if it was desperately trying to use the little time it still had to run on full power. She thought she could imagine now how a hyperactive person felt. Her thoughts just wouldn't stop. And together with the morphine and the tiredness it was a strange combination. She was tired and yet not able to calm down. She was feeling like walking up that cliff path to find him and tell him how disappointed she was that he left her alone in her last days but she knew she wouldn't even make it out the garden door. She looked out over the ocean and tried to find some calm there.

At the same time not too far away he was watching her from his garden. He had worked all day. Only stopping every now and then to drink some water. But just like the days before he hadn't been able to stop himself from occasionally looking down into the cove. He told himself that he had always done that and that as the person he was it was his custom to always be vigilant and know what was going on about him. But he had stopped working when he saw her father carrying her outside and settling her down in a deckchair with a mass of blankets. She looked frail and almost lost in that sea of fabric. Her father went inside and she peered up the hill. And for a moment he thought she was looking straight at him. But that was ridiculous. His wards where such that she couldn't see into his garden. And she couldn't see him in there. It was impossible. At the same time he wished she could see him. All of a sudden he felt a deep sense of longing like he had only known it once before. He wanted to be down there with her. He wanted to sit next to her and listen to her chatter. He wanted to look at her and see her smile. It was a burning sensation within him that brought tears to his eyes again and threatened to consume him. He threw his little shovel against the wall of his cottage in a helpless and angry attempt to quell those unwelcome emotions. He was master of himself and he had decided. He walked back inside and locked the door behind him. He spent the rest of the day and a great part of the night working on his latest potion order until he fell asleep on the work surface.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day Sophie felt to weak to leave her bed. It went even faster than she had feared. The day after that she was asking for more morphine. Her parents had been given instructions on how to administer it and normally it was highly unusual that they would be given permission for this but Sophie had known the doctor and they had shared a common love for the British Coast. So he had understood her longing and had not wanted to deprive her of her last wish to die by the sea. He had taught her mother and her father how to use the morphine and how much to use and since they had come by car the substance had not been found in search by customs. Now she felt like she could not bear the pain anymore and only wanted the constant ache to end.

Her father was reluctant but her mother couldn't bear her suffering and tried to convince him when there was a knock on the front door. Her father came back up with him following.

At first he just stood in the doorway staring at her. She had changed dramatically. Her eyes were sunken in and red. Her face pale and sunken in. Merlin, he might be too late. Why had he waited so long? What a fool he had been!

In one swift motion he was sitting on her bed holding her hand.

"I can help you." It felt as if these words had waited to be spoken, had pushed for their release and the feeling of freedom when he had uttered them was incredible. He couldn't help smiling. It was a desperate smile, the kind you have on your face when you are trying to convince yourself of the impossible.

"I can help you and you will be alright again."

She smiled back at him. Her warm, welcoming smile and for that one moment he could believe this smile was reserved for him only.

"Hey! Good to see you! How are you?"

How bizarre was that. She was laying there dying and asked him how he was.

"Listen to me, I can take you to a place where you can be helped."

He knew he needed to tread carefully now. He needed to give her a credible story why and how he could save her without scaring her or make her suspicious. He knew she was Christian and believed in all that. And it was that faith and the close-mindedness of muggles that had let to the separation of their worlds. If he didn't play this right she would not agree to his plan and die.

"I … I used to work in a special institution. And this entitled me to certain privileges. One of them is a special medical care for me and any family members. So… I know this may sound … ridiculous… but it would only be temporary. So if you agreed to become a family member… only temporarily of course… then I could take you there and you could be saved."

She was still smiling.

"There is nothing that can save me. But that's ok. If it's the way it should be then I will not fret."

"No, no, you don't understand. You can be saved! There are ways to help you."

"If there was I would have been saved already. I saw some of the best doctors of my country and they all said I couldn't be helped."

"This is not what you think of. I told you it is not available to everybody."

"How can that be? If there was a way to cure cancer why are so many people dying of it? Nobody would keep a cure for cancer only for a few."

"It is different. A different cure. Nothing your doctors will have heard of."

"A new medicine? A trial?"

He wasn't quite sure what she meant but if it helped.

"Yes, yes, a trial. This medicine could help you."

"But I'm not a family member."

"You could be… for a while…"

"How?"

"If you married me…"

Now her smile grew even wider.

"Marry you?"

She liked that thought. If she married him she could die as his wife and she would at least have that.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

He leapt up without another word and practically ran out the door. When he came back a few moments later, he had another man in tow.

"This is Mr. Stevens from the community council. He will register our marriage and hand us the certificate."

"You are well prepared."

"We have no time to lose."

Mr. Stevens was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable with the situation. He probably didn't marry a woman on her deathbed to a man in a great hurry very often. But he did his best to be as professional as possible and not to stumble over "long life together" or "til death do us part." Her parents were standing by with disbelieve written all over their faces. To Sophie it was almost amusing.

Then they signed the documents, Sophie sitting up with her mother's help, Sam looking desperate to get it all over with. When finally done, Sam nearly pushed Stevens out the door. The poor man had hardly had time to say a proper goodbye. When Sam returned from walking him to the front door, he found Sophie in a discussion with her parents.

"My mother is suspicious about your motives to marry me." she chuckled.

"She will thank me when she realises that you will live."

"Sam, I will not live."

"Yes, you will. I will take you to London now where you will be treated."

Upon that her mother and her father both strongly objected. They did not want to leave her side during her final hours. And Sophie too obviously did not believe him yet.

"I cannot force you to come with me, but I can promise you, if you do and if you believe in me, then you will live. And if you are dying, what have you got to lose? What reason would I have to lie to you and what could I possibly do to you since you are already dying?"

She couldn't deny he had no reason at all to lie to her and nothing to gain from burdening himself with a dying woman.

"Ok. I'll come to London."

Her parents were furious and would not hear of it. Sophie was trying her best to convince them. In the end Sam just picked her up and carried her downstairs. There was a lot of shouting and her mother started crying. She asked Sam to stop and turn her around.

"Mama, it's OK. He is right. I have nothing to lose. But if they can help me, I have so much to gain. Let me try. And if it's not working, Sam will bring me back, won't you, Sam?"

"Yes… but it will work." Was he still just trying to convince himself?

She said goodbye to her parents amidst many tears on their side and then he carried her up the path.

Her mother and father looked after them, not sure whether it was the right decision she had taken.


	11. Chapter 11

He carried her up to his cottage employing the same charm he had before. He layed her down on his couch and disappeared into another room. When he came back he kneeled down beside her to be face to face with her.

"Now listen to me, this is very important. I will take you to a special hospital now. You will see many strange things there. Some may seem impossible or even frightening, but you must not panic, do you understand? It is absolutely necessary that you behave as if all of it was perfectly natural for you so nobody notices our little charade. Understood?"

She nodded her head weakly.

"I will not look the same when we get there, I will look different and speak a little different, but you must not be alarmed. As soon as we are back here again, I will look absolutely normal again."

With that he rose and turned away from her. Sophie closed her eyes and gave in to her tiredness. She felt how he lifted her up again and noticed that they left the house. Then he walked a few steps and all of a sudden she felt the world spin around her like crazy. It felt like the worst roller coaster she had ever been on. But it only took a fraction of a second. Then it stopped. The horrible pulling sensation in her stomach disappeared again but the sickness lingered longer. She very much felt like throwing up and had she not felt so badly she probably would have. She heard lots of noise and traffic, like in a big town. She opened her eyes a little and could see a back lane as if in a big town. The were walking along towards a shop window. She closed her eyes again. At some point she heard Sam speak. He indeed spoke differently. Somehow with a higher voice and a not so precise pronunciation. And then they were in a very light room with lots of people and even more noise. They were still walking. And then he stopped and a female voice asked:

"Emergency?"

"Yes, my wife is very sick. It's a muggle thing but I think we waited a little too long. We really urgently need to see a healer."

The bored female voice only answered:

"Name?"

"Sam Ashworth"

"A muggle thing? Can you specify it?"

"Cancer."

"Cancer and all other forms of natural and unnatural mutations can be cured by using the magical guide to quick self-healing, book 3. Please make way for the next case, Mr. Ashworth."

He felt like he had just been slapped in the face. Who did this little self-important squib think she was?

"Did you not hear what I just said, you incompetent excuse of a direction sign? I said she was too far along for me to help her!"

He was shouting at the top of his voice now, all caution forgotten.

But that cow just continued in the same bored voice:

"Sir, I must ask you to refrain from using improper language. Please make way for the next case or I will have to alert security."

"You little…"

"Rosina, what's going on here?"

Oh Merlin, it was Granger.

"Nothing Healer Granger, just somebody without a proper healing book."

"What? I am telling you again now: I need help or my wife will die. She is too far along! Merlin, you ignorant squib…"

"Sir, please calm down. What do you mean she is too far along?"

"My wife is suffering from cancer. We waited too long to treat it after the muggle therapies had not worked. She needs help now or she will die."

Granger took her wand out of her sleeve and ran a diagnostic spell over Sophie.

"Dear me, come along, Sir, this way."

In this one moment he was grateful for Granger's brain. Even if it had been a nuisance to teach her, the little know-it-all, she had always been quick on the uptake and she had always had the stupid Gryffindor instinct to help without asking too many questions.

She walked ahead of them, almost running and took them to the second floor where she found them an empty treatment room.

"You can lay her down here. Then you need to wait outside." She pointed at the table in the middle of the room and stepped out on the corridor again.

"I need a healer assistant in two, please."

He placed her gently on the treatment table and stroke her cheek to get her attention.

"Sophie? Sophie, I have to wait outside. But they will help you, OK? Don't worry, I will just be outside and remember what I told you before we came here, yes?"

She silently nodded. He turned to Granger.

"What treatment will you chose?"

"I need to run more checks on her. The cancer has spread considerably. Why have you waited so long?"

Quick, think, quick…

"I… I was travelling and when I came back she was in this state."

A doubtful look was all the answer he got.

"She didn't tell me her situation was so serious. She is a muggle… she didn't think she could be saved."

"But she does know about us?"

"Yes, yes of course. But she isn't aware of the full scope of our abilities yet."

The assistant healer arrived.

"Well, we have not time to lose. Please wait outside, Mr?"

"Ashworth."

"Ashworth? As in Sam Ashworth?"

Of course, of all the people that could have recognised that name, she had to be one.

"Yes…"

"Sam Ashworth, potions master?"

"Yes."

"Wow, Sir, it is such an honor to meet you! We use quite a few of your potions here. Whenever we need something especially good or something of the highest quality it's you we turn to."

"Yes, well, now I would be grateful if you could turn to my wife."

"Oh, yes, yes of course. Forgive me. I will be with you as soon as I know what the situation is."

"Thank you."

He practically ran out of the room. Out in the corridor he looked for a quiet corner and sat down. His polyjuice potion was working well. He only had to make sure to modify his voice around her. If anyone could recognise him, it would be her. And that was something he needed to avoid. He had known the moment he had decided for this course that there was a possibility that someone might recognise him, but he had resolved it was worth the risk. To save her… he would have come here with his real face it he had to. He knew it. But so far it had gone well with his disguise. He brought a bottle of the polyjuice with him, just in case this whole thing took longer than expected. It should suffice. Now he would have to wait for the results of the examination. It was incredible how slowly time suddenly seemed to pass.


	12. Chapter 12

It took time. A long time. Every single tumor and every little mutated cell had to be located, the nature and extent of the mutation had to be diagnosed and recorded. After about four hours they felt they had found them all. Hermione Weasley left the examination room to find the potions master. What a coincidence that she should meet him here. He was the secret star of the British potions scene, but nobody had ever seen his face or even spoken to him. All exchange was conducted by owl order. Nobody had questioned it because the quality of his products was always outstanding. And outstanding is this case really meant outstanding. Even in years when others had trouble finding high quality ingredients due to weather conditions or other unchangeable reasons, his potions still exceeded all other. Nobody could explain it but after all these years people had just come to accept it. And the other potions masters of Britain had come to terms with the fact that every year the potioneers guild award for Britain's best potioneer was won by a man that never showed up at the ceremonies and never published any of his secrets in the guild's own magazine. How strange it was then that he had left the healing of his wife so long. The cancer had spread and she was deteriorating rapidly. She wasn't quite sure whether they could still help her. She would employ her husband's potions since this was such an urgent case. Now she had to find him and prepare him for what was to come. Such conversations were never easy. Already in her training days she had found dealing with the relatives the most difficult part of the job. But it could not be helped.

She saw him at the back of the corridor sitting on a chair with a magazine held up in front his face. As she was approaching him somebody called out her name from behind.

"'Mione!" Ron and Harry. She wondered briefly who of the two had gotten hurt this time and had had to be healed.

"Hello, what are you doing here? Hope you didn't end up in the creature's department again?"

"No! Hey, Love." He gave her quick peck on the cheek. His usual way to greet her, in any and all situations, even when she was mad at him. And it always made her smile.

"No, we were just delivering an uncooperative suspect that has to be patched up again and while we're waiting we thought you might like to take us boys out for lunch."

He said with his big boyish grin.

"Sorry Ron, but I have a case that can't wait." She could see he was slightly disappointed. They hadn't seen much of each other lately what with her shifts at the hospital and his shifts in the aurors department.

Her assistant just joined them.

"Healer Granger, the room you requested is ready now, do you want me to take the patient in there?"

"Yes please, and prepare everything for the first round of treatment, just as we discussed."

"Yes Healer Granger."

Ron looked after her with a frown.

"Why do you still make them call you Granger? I just don't get it. We've been married for 14 years and you still have them call you Granger."

"Ron, we've had this discussion before. I just want this one area of my life where I am not just your wife and Rose's mother but my own person. Is it really such a big deal?"

He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere so he just left it at that.

"Right, I guess I'll see you at home tonight then?"

"Yes." Now it was her turn to peck him on the cheek to make him smile.

She turned to her patients husband to address him and saw he had pulled the magazine even higher. As if Ron or Harry would ever recognise a famous potions master!

"Mr. Ashworth?"

"Yes." The answer came from behind the magazine. Witch weekly. She couldn't imagine it was his usual past time.

"Ashworth? As in Sam Ashworth?"

Harry came forward from behind Ron. So he did know the name? Surprising since his usual areas of interest were charms, defence and quidditch.

"Yes, actually, Sir, would you mind meeting my husband and our friend Harry Potter?"

She was convinced he would be delighted. Everybody was delighted to meet "the boy who lived twice". But Mr Ashworth seemed rather reluctant to even lower his magazine.

"If I must."

There was something very familiar about his way of showing his annoyance. But Hermione couldn't quite place it.

He put aside the magazine and stood but didn't look straight at them.

"Mr. Ashworth, this is Harry Potter and my husband Ronald Weasley."

He shook hands with them but didn't say a word. And he didn't have to since Harry took over to end the seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"Yes, wow, erhmmm I have heard so much about you."

Hermione couldn't quite believe that.

"You have? I didn't have you down as a potioneer, Harry."

"What? Oh, why? Have you forgotten? I won the felix by making the best potion." He said grinning at her broadly, knowing it still irked her that he had won Slughorn's little competition in their sixth year.

And he received the appropriate response.

"That was only because you had Prof Snape's old potions book and cheated with it, as you know very well."

There was a slight movement in the corner of her eyes and as she turned Mr. Ashworth had slightly turned to the side and had a rather sickly pale complexion.

"Are you alright, Mr. Ashworth? You look a bit pale?"

"Yes...yes… fine. I just… ahhh… had no food since last night. No time to loose you see."

"Oh yes of course."

"Hey, why don't you join us for lunch?"

Harry chimed in.

"Yes, that's a fabulous idea! And by the time you are back we will have prepared your wife for the treatment and you can sit through it with her."

He looked positively alarmed at that proposition.

"No, no, thanks. That won't be necessary at all. And I would rather stay with my wife."

"What good will you be to your wife if you faint from exhaustion. You should…"

"No, thank you. I would appreciate if you could take me to my wife now and inform me about the treatment you have planned for her."

His quiet and a little raspy voice had taken on a steely and determined edge that surprised Hermione. It also didn't go unnoticed by Harry. He looked at the man with a curious mix of interest and suspicion. Hermione knew she would be asked a lot of questions about Mr. Ashworth when the opportunity arose.

"Of course, I do apologize. I'm sure you must be very worried for your wife. I will take you to see her straight away."

She turned to Ron and kissed him chastely.

"Bye Boys, have a nice lunch. And Ron, don't forget to pick Rose up from your parents house!"

"I won't forget" he said a little annoyed and turned to Harry he added "Just because I forgot her once."

They left Hermione with Ashworth, who had more interest in his reflection in the wards window then in their departure.

Hermione guided him to his wife's room.

She was already there when they entered and he rushed to her side when he saw how small and frail she looked in hospital bed.

"Sophie? Sophie?"

"She won't hear you. We have given her a mild sedative in preparation for her treatment."

"What will her treatment comprise of?"

"We will in a first step mark the tumors with a spell and then give her a potion that will attack the affected tissue. We will keep her sedated for the entire time. In a next step the parts that were destroyed will have to be re-grown. That will be a very painful process which might also affect her psych. But we will only know that for sure once she is awake again."

"How serious could these effects be?"

"As I said, we can't be sure. It could happen, that she shows no effects at all…"

"But what would they be if she does?" he was growing impatient. She hadn't wanted to worry him, but she had to inform him on possible side effects of the treatment.

"Well, it is a traumatic process and the sedatives will only be able to keep so much from her. She will be going through an immense amount of reconstruction with all the tumors we have located. That will be extremely painful. The individual resilience of a person and their former experience with pain will determine how well their mind is able to cope with such a treatment. When she wakes up, she will most likely not consciously remember the pain, but the mind will remember. It could lead to nightmares, sleeplessness, headaches, phantom pain in the back. It could also show psychological effects such as panic attacks, in extreme cases hallucinations and schizophrenia. But that is extremely rare and as I said, it's possible she won't show any signs at all."

She could see in his face that he didn't believe her.

"In my experience pain always leaves an effect on mind and body."

That was an ominous statement. What would a potions master know about pain of this scale? Maybe there was more to him than met the eye. If Harry asked her questions about him she would have to make sure she would find out what he had researched in the ministry about him.

He turned away from her and conjured a chair which he placed next to her bed on the far side of it. He sat down with his back to the window and facing the door. But he would not look at her any more, he just gently took her hand to hold it.


	13. Chapter 13

The hours ticked by. He sat there witnessing the nurses come and go, administering potions and checking vital signs. He watched her attentively for the first few hours but nothing much seemed to happen to her. If anything she started to look even paler. If that was at all possible. He tried to stay out of everybody's way. Sipping at his polyjuice potion in regular intervals. When he had seen the Granger girl he had already thought his game was up. But seeing the Potter brat and his red haired sidekick walking down the corridor nearly gave him a heart attack. Of all the times when they could have taken her out for lunch they had to show up today. He had held up his magazine in the hope that they would just all go away, but alas, no such luck. He had to risk being discovered. But the dunderheads had not noticed anything wrong with him. They had not commented on his strange way of speaking either. He knew his voice was unique, a dead giveaway. So he had tried to speak softer and higher and a little raspy. It had totally escaped them. How those two had managed to pass their aurors' training, and passed, they must have because they had been wearing the auror robes, it was quite beyond him. But then again, polyjuice was a powerful potion and they had had no reason to suspect anything. He would have to be careful with the Granger girl though. She had always been the smartest of the lot and she would be around him a lot. He had to make sure he wouldn't give himself away.

Sophie was out cold all day. He did get up every now and then to use the loo and stretch his legs. And one of the nurses was thoughtful enough to provide some food. But apart from that not much seemed to happen. When the evening approached, Granger showed up again. She performed an intricately patterned spell and then turned to him.

"I think we have them destroyed but it left her with seriously damaged tissue. We will start the re-growing process immediately and we will also apply some stabilising charms to keep her inner organs working. Organ failure really is the last thing we want at this stage. Now don't be alarmed if she starts tossing and turning. As I explained before, she will be in pain. But she is in a better shape than I had dared to hope so I think we will manage to get her through this."

"Should you be making such assumptions?"

"Sir, I have had quite a few cases in my life and time and I can assure you I should be very much surprised if your wife won't pull through this. From what I can see, her body is responding much better than I could have anticipated to the potions."

"Potions often have side effects that you don't notice straight away. Just like cancer, it can seem to be gone but actually you just missed a single cell and it shows up again when you least expect it."

"Sir, I can assure you, I was very thorough in the examination of your wife. I have not missed a single cell. We will now start the regeneration process of the tissue that was destroyed. As I said before this process will be painful. Some relatives find it too hard to be around loved ones when they experience this amount of discomfort."

At those words he just stared at her as if she had grown a second head.

"I will remain by her side. That is something I can assure you of."

"Very well." she left to go fetch her assistant. She did feel a bit annoyed at this man's behaviour. He had questioned her competence. This hadn't happened in years. At first, when she started practising as a healer here at St. Mungo's, she was often looked at with scepticism. She had been young. One of the youngest graduates of the prestigious healer's training course of the hospital's own school ever. Her patients had been unnerved by her youth. They had found it difficult to trust her and she had worked hard to learn the social skills it took to understand their fears and talk them out of them. She had thought she had left those days behind, but this man was taking her back to her … to when? When had she ever felt so belittled and so questioned in the very things that were her very own area of expertise? She tried to remember...and the only time she came up with were potions lessons with Snape. He had always had a way to make her feel small and insignificant. But with him it was not something she had ever questioned, not just because he had been a teacher, but also because he was a master of his profession. Even at her young age back then she had recognised his sharp intellect and his vast knowledge. And in spite of his behaviour towards her she had always admired his skills and erudition. But this man… he was a potions master, true. But apart from that there was no indication that he would have the competence to judge her skills and question her work. But that hadn't stopped him. Maybe he had some medical knowledge. Every good potions master worth his salt had that. They needed it. But she was a trained healer, for Merlin's sake. She had worked hard for her degree and she had lots of experience to prove her skills. And why did it bother her so that he did? She should really be above such things.

When they had administered the first round of regeneration potions he went out for a moment to use the bathroom and check on his looks to make sure the polyjuice hadn't worn off yet.

When he returned Granger was checking Sophie for a last time and then left the room without another word.

He sat down by her side again. The first two hours nothing happened. Then the moaning started. After four and a half hours the moaning was accompanied by restless threshing and another one and a half hours later she started screaming and crying. He held her hand and tried to talk to her, tried soothing her. Her suffering started to grate on his nerves. But he had told Granger he would not leave her and he wouldn't. He had taken her here. It was his doing that had brought her this pain, so he felt he had to witness it. He could not take the pain from her but he hoped wherever she was in her sedated state that she felt she was not alone. He knew from experience that the thing worse than suffering was suffering alone. He just hoped it would be worth it. He hoped she would wake up from this and be healed, remembering the ordeal only as a hazy nightmare.


	14. Chapter 14

There was light. White light. And nothing else. She hurt. But she could not locate where. She should move and see where she hurt. But somehow nothing moved. She felt pressure. She remembered feeling safe. And warm. She remembered a smell. Sandalwood … and something else, something dusty and not much used. She remembered feeling a fabrique pressed against her cheek. Warm and not too coarse but not soft either. And she remembered his voice… so low and rumbling in his chest when he spoke and tried to comfort her. Then there had been lots of noise and he had suddenly spoken differently. But she could still feel the vibrations of his voice. He must have held her in his arms. And then she was put down on a hard surface. And then… nothing. She couldn't remember more. Now white light. Where was she? She really should open her eyes. But somehow every thought seemed to slip from her mind's grasp as soon as she had spoken it and somehow it never seemed to matter. Why did it not matter? Seeing was important… or was it not? Ahh… there was a ceiling. Nothing she recognised. Where was she? Strange colour… and where was she? Had she just had that thought before? Her hand felt strange. Left

hand? Yes, definitely her left hand...it felt strange. Like… like… like what? Oh yeah..like a weight was on it. She should lift her head and check her hand. This ceiling… she didn't recognise it. There was a weight on her left hand. She turned her head. No problem at all. There was someone sleeping with his forehead on her arm. Weird. Someone with strange, plain, brown hair… long hair. Whom did she know with that colour hair?

She was definitely not at home. Where was Sam? Didn't he say he would take her to a hospital to be treated? What else did he say? So much… and she was now married to him! She smiled. She was married to him. How very weird. But she was happy about it. She really didn't recognise this hair. Maybe she could draw her hand out from under him. But what if she'd wake him? She would just try to be gentle.

Wow, she couldn't move. No, no, no, no. This can't be right. She should be able to move. She had had no trouble with her hands. Come on! Move!

There, that was better. She could feel the fabric under her hand slide by. Only a fraction, but it did move. There was a grunt. Maybe she should wait til he was asleep again. But this was more important. She needed to know she could still move. She tried again. His head shot up like he had been hit by lightning and a pair of unrecognisable brown eyes looked at her. First there was alarm, then recognition and then concern passing over the stranger's face.

"You're awake. How are you?"

She hesitated.

"I'm… fine." Her voice felt strange and raspy, he jumped immediately to fetch her a glass of water.

She felt too tired to try and sit up so she only tried raising her head to drink. Even that felt an impossible task. But the stranger assisted her without a second thought.

"Should I know you?" She asked after a few sips of delicious water.

"It's me, Sam. Don't you remember me?" A fleeting impression of pain crossed his face which was quickly replaced by concern.

"Sam? But my Sam looks different, not like you at all."

He smiled at that. A broad genuine and pleasant smile.

"Don't you remember? I told you I would change my appearance a bit. It's better that way."

"So what is this? A silicon mask?"

Now there it was. How was he going to answer this? He knew that many muggles reacted with fear to his kind, with revulsion and rejection. And that was the last thing he wanted to see on his wife's face, even if this marriage was just a scam. But the marriage was the legitimization to be told about the magical community. And he wasn't sure he could keep it from her, she was sharp and would not easily be mislead. And she was also Christian. There was a big, fat chance that she would consider him fit for the pyre once she knew about all of this. He needed to come up with something and until then he needed to buy time.

"Listen, you will see things and experience things that you would not have considered possible. This place is like nothing you will ever have seen before. Things here are done differently and work differently. You must not expect to see anything familiar. And you must promise me not to ask any questions about it."

"Why?"

"That would be a question."

"But I haven't promised yet not to ask you any questions."

That brought another smile to his face.

"No, but you will, please, promise me that."

"Why would I do that?"

He looked down at his hands. He felt shabby for playing it like this but didn't know what else to do at the moment.

"Because you will live, but only because I brought you here. And in return I only ask this little thing of you: don't ask questions."

She was astonished he would say such a thing. In her books, when you offered to do something for someone you didn't ask anything in return. But she would have to have faith. She was still alive and she was feeling reasonably well. So if he did save her life, what reason would he now have to ask something unreasonable. She would just have to trust that he had his reasons.

"Very well, I will not ask any questions. Not about this place, not about your looks, if…."

"If what?"

"If you allow me one single question."

She was hard to bargain with.

"Let me first hear that question and then I will decide whether I accept your terms or not."

"Ok. My question is a simple one: will this look stay or will you be looking the way I've come to know you again when we leave here?"

"What would you prefer?"

He was almost certain he would know the answer.

She smiled at him.

"I would like the old Sam back. Please say you will look like you did in Cornwall again?"

Now that did surprise him. Sophie could see his surprise.

"Well, this look doesn't fit you at all. I liked the old Sam better. Much better."

"You do?"

"Yes, your hair, your beard, your nose… that was so you. This is nothing like you."

He snorted at that. But he was also pleased.

"Don't worry, as soon as we are out here, you will have it all back."

Now she was smiling. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Ok, then I won't ask anymore questions."

"When the medi… I mean… the doctor. When she comes, they are called healers in this institution by the way, so when the healer comes, don't be alarmed to see some strange things happening."

"Ok."

"And don't worry about hearing new words or seeing strange cloths either."

"Ok."

"And…"

"Don't worry. I understood it. No questions. Whatever happens, whatever I see or hear. But you must be aware that I am completely giving my life into your hands with this."

"I am. And I appreciate it. Now, you should try and rest some more. As soon as they notice you are awake they will want to run some tests on you."

She was worn out. Although they had had only this brief conversation, she felt like falling asleep again.

By the door of the patient room stood Hermione, transfixed by something she couldn't quite grasp. This man's voice… it felt so familiar….


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14

She spent the rest of the day drifting in and out of sleep and he spent it trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. In the evening she was awake for a full hour and Healer Granger came to see whether the restoration potion had done it's job. Sophie was looking quite perplexed at the little wooden stick that suddenly made a coloured glow appear in various areas of her body. She was about to ask what this was and what all the colours meant but one look at Sam's face reminded her of her promise and she shut her mouth again. He stood behind the woman with the strange white, loosely fitted garments that she could only describe as robes. She could think of no better word. They looked almost medieval in style, with silver embroideries on the hems. The woman turned to Sam and spoke.

"Looks like we've managed to get them all. And the tissue restoration seems to have worked well too. We will keep her here another night and see how she is doing in the morning."

Turning to Sophie she said:

"Are you in a lot of pain?"

"If I don't move too much I don't feel any pain at all, I just feel … I don't know… It's like I'm sore on the inside somehow."

"That's excellent. If it stays like this I would like to try and let you sleep without a sedative tonight. See how you are getting through the night. If, however you feel so uncomfortable that you can't sleep, then you should call the nurse and let her give you something. You must understand that the best healer of your body is sleep and more sleep. So no point in trying to be heroic here."

"No worries, I'm not known for being a martyr."

The healer said her goodnight and left them alone again.

"I know I promised not to ask, but can I just say I'm fascinated."

"Noted"

Returning his dry witted answer with a smile, she turned and closed her eyes.

The night was more restful by far then the previous ones had been. The only disturbance was the night nurse that came in regular intervals to check her vital signs. She always found the patient sleeping while her husband would be startled out of sleep with a rather severe reaction and point his wand in her direction. She had repeatedly told him to put his wand down and was becoming more and more weary to go into this patient's room at all. Towards the morning she didn't show up again.

When they had been given a light breakfast healer Granger came in with a group of young people in tow.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs Ashworth. These is this year's healers trainee group. Would you mind if I talk them through your case?"

Before Sam could answer, Sophie had already consented, hoping she would get a chance to understand more of what was going on. But the explanations Healer Granger was giving were not enlightening at all.

"And after the restoration is complete, the patient can then be released again. Who would like to perform the final examination?"

"No, no way!"

Sam had risen out of his chair as if bitten by a tarantula.

"Excuse me?"

Granger turned to him in bewilderment. He had to reign himself in again and remind himself to alter his voice before he continued.

"I will not have these trainees perform any examination on my wife."

Sophie felt she had to interject here.

"But Sam, all good doctors have to start somewhere, they are not born knowing how to perform open heart surgery."

That earned her a lot of strange looks from all around. Granger looked at Sam and then back at her as if she had just understood something.

"Ah… no, ahh… that's not a problem at all really. We have plenty of other patients they can practise on, don't you worry yourself. Mr. Ashworth, a word if you please? Cedric, you can take the group to patient room six now. Thank you for your attention everybody."

The group went outside and Granger followed them with Sam in tow. When the youngsters had disappeared in the other room down the corridor, she spoke.

"She has no idea, has she?"

"No". It was a short answer but his expression told her it was troubling him.

"Well, don't you think…"

"No, Miss Granger, I do not. And I would like you to keep your busy nose out of my business."

He looked straight at her and the sternness of his words were reflected in his expression. There was definitely something about him that seemed so familiar and well-known. It was like dreaming and the waking up. You cannot recall the dream, only the feeling of it.

"Tell me, are you sure we've never met? I could swear I know you somehow."

The feeling was so strong that she even forgot the insulting words he had just said to her. At her question he recoiled visibly and turned half away from her.

"I can assure you, I would have remembered if I had met the famous friend of Harry Potter before."

Compliments usually worked and helped to divert people, but Granger was not so easily impressed and he should have known that. Her suspicion was aroused, he could see it in the doubtful eyebrows and searching look she gave him.

"I could swear I know you somehow."

She walked round him and returned into Sophie's room.

There she performed the final check and signed the release forms.

"Right, Mrs. Ashworth. You can leave us today but please be advised to take it slow for the next couple of weeks. Your body will need time to fully recover and you should give it plenty of that. Listen to it, it will let you know exactly what is needed. Sleep when you feel tired, no matter what hat time of day it is. Sleep is the best healer. Try and eat healthy and nutritious food, don't overexert yourself but do try to move some. I suggest light walks. Should any problem arise please come straight here again. Do not see any other doctor. OK?"

"So, does this actually mean I'm healed now or is it just postponed?"

She had to smile at the disbelieve in her patient's face.

"You are completely healed and I don't expect any complications."

"You mean I'm really going to live?"

"Yes, you are. There is no reason why you should not reach a very old age."

Sophie couldn't believe her luck. She looked between Sam and the healer and felt the tears come to her eyes.

"I can't believe it. Are you really sure? I can't…." and the tears finally started to flow freely as she tried to sit up to hug the healer.

"You saved my life. Thank you so very much."

"You are very welcome."

This was the part Hermione loved most about her job and she allowed herself to bath in the happiness that radiated from her patient for a moment. Even the mysterious Mr. Ashworth smiled broadly.


	16. Chapter 16

When Sophie was dressed and ready to go, Severus took one last sip of his polyjuice potion. It really was the last bit. It would not have lasted longer. He guessed in his panic to be found out by the Granger girl, he had taken too much of it. It wouldn't do him any harm but it irked him that his feelings had taken control. He should have let his potions knowledge and his logic make the decisions. It reminded him too much of the time when his life had been at stake and he had had to make similar decisions. All in all he would be glad to be out of here, away from this world and back in his little cottage by the sea.

Sophie was still a bit wobbly on her feet so he offered his arm and she leaned on him.

"If it is easier for you, I could carry you?"

"No! No, that really won't be necessary."

The intensity of her reaction hurt him.

"I did bring you here that way." He said scowling.

"Yes, but I was really bad then and you are not too well yourself. I really don't want to be more of a burden than I already am."

Amidst this exchange they had made it out of the room. Healer Granger was standing by the door on the opposite side of the corridor and spoke to a nurse when Sophie looked up from where she was setting her feet.

"Did I hear that correctly, you are not well Mr. Ashworth? Can I be of assistance?"

Sam scowled at her in a very rude way.

"I believe I have told you before to stay out of my business."

Sophie looked up at him in surprise. He felt her look and had the grace to look away a little shamefaced.

"Thank you, Healer Granger. Sam, are you sure you would not like another opinion? I am more than happy to wait and it would put my mind at rest to know you have been checked properly."

"I appreciate your concern, but it really won't be necessary."

"I do worry about you, it frightened me a lot to see you suffer."

"Please, Sophie. Remember I asked you to trust me. You said you would. Please keep your word as I will keep mine."

Sophie realised that by giving him her promise she had not just agreed to trust him, she had also delivered a killer argument with which he could effectively cut every discussion short and get his will. They would have to discuss this in private. Sophie was not prepared to accept just any avoidance of a good and healthy debate and she was only prepared to blindly accept so much.

"Very well." She said, but the determination showing in her eyes must have told him that this wasn't going to be the last they had exchanged on this issue. He looked at the healer with a plea to change the subject on his face and said:

"I will take her home and make sure she rests and eats well. Should I keep you informed of her progress?"

"Yes, if you are connected to the floo we could agree on a time frame in which you could contact me?"

"I'm not on the floo, but I will write to you. That should suffice, if her situation should dramatically worsen I will bring her here directly anyway."

"Floo? What's that? A new messenger app I've missed?"

"Ehhhr, something like that, yes."

He was looking decidedly uncomfortable again.

Before she could ask anymore questions he had taken her by the arm and was steering her down the corridor.

They made it out of the building but on the street Sophie finally protested.

"Sam, wait. You're going to fast, I can't keep up." She was out of breath and Sam immediately stopped.

"Goodness, as if the devil personally was after you. What's wrong?"

He looked around himself as if he could find a plausible answer on the pavement.

"I'm sorry…nothing's wrong." She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Well,... I asked…"

"No, don't give me that "I asked you to trust me" again. It's all nice and well when it comes to my healing but you can't use it as a free pass to end all discussions. That's neither fair nor right."

He looked at her with surprise and turned a bit to the right so she couldn't see his face but he could still steady her.

After a moment he said:

"I have lived through a time in my life I would rather not be reminded of. This building, it's people, what it stands for and represents for me, that is all part of it. I have not been in here for 20 years and if it wasn't for your condition I would not have returned to the day I die. These people think I am dead and I want to keep it like that."

She started slowly walking down on his arm since they were in the way of other pedestrians.

"They think you are dead?"

"Yes, hence the disguise."

"What on earth were you involved in?"

She turned to have a better look at the building they had just left but all she could see was a derelict building with a faded shop window with old dolls in it.

"Wait a moment, where is the hospital? Didn't we just leave it?"

"Ah… now that really is part of what I can't tell you."

She looked at him speechlessly for a moment, trying to process it all. Her healing from the deadly cancer, the strange examinations, his altered appearance and now a ruin hiding a hospital.

"What is all this? Is this some government thing? Were you some government spy and these are some of the famous secret facilities that everyone speculates about but no one has ever seen?"

"Erh… yes, I guess something like that."

She could see the subject was very uncomfortable for him. Oh honestly, what did it matter? She was feeling much better and he had made that possible. There was no reason to make him feel bad about it. She should just trust that he had his reasons for keeping her in the dark. After all nobody would lightly give up their life and identity. And she didn't want him to linger on his obviously distressing past on a day where she felt like embracing the whole world.

"Come on then, James Bond", she said with a smile," let's go back to our own world then and forget all about this."

They kept on walking down the street.

"How do you feel? Well enough to take the train back?"

Sophie smiled feebly.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to 5 hours train ride, but what else could we do? We have to get back down to Cornwall somehow."

"Yes, but there are other ways."

"What ways? Flying? Do you have a pilot's' license? How did we get here in the first place? I don't remember anything."

He gave her a pointed look.

"Ah, no, not again!"

"I'm sorry. Really, but if you don't want to sit on the train for five hours there is a way to speed this up. The only thing is you would have to be asleep."

"Does that mean we have to wait til tonight? Because right now, I feel very much awake."

"Don't worry about that. If this plan is agreeable to you, making you sleep isn't going to take a moment."

"I would be totally at your mercy."

"As you have been from the moment I picked you up at your cottage, if I may remind you," he said, feeling a bit annoyed again.

"Hey, I'm just teasing you. I am well aware that if you had wanted to harm me you would have had plenty of chances already."

"Maybe I'm just a psychopath who likes to play with his victim," he said with a nasty smirk.

"Yes, or maybe you just like me more than you would openly admit." Now it was her time to smirk as he stopped dead in his tracks and stared after her with his mouth wide open.

As she was continuing down the street with joyful laughter he managed to catch up with her.

"What, pray tell, gives you the absolute absurd impression I could… I could…"

"...could be in love with me?"

"Preposterous, absolutely preposterous."

By now she was laughing hard and it felt so good. She felt so alive and happy. The sun was shining through the buildings and the blue sky was visible above. The world was a good place again and she was looking forward to having a future again.


	17. Chapter 17

He laid her down on his couch and made his way over to the little kitchen unit. Putting the kettle on his wood burning stove, he contemplated her words. Was he really in love with her? She had touched him, he didn't deny it. But was it enough to call it love? He had actually merely thought of them as friends… or had he wanted more? Now that she had a realistic prognosis of a full recovery, , would she realise that there were other, more pleasant and more entertaining options available?

His head was starting to hurt and he forced himself to stop this kind of thinking. He had spent too much time of his life with "what if"s and "if only"s and he would not fall back on that. He would deliver her safely to her parents and when she felt better he would offer her the divorce she would undoubtedly want by then. Yes, that was his plan. And this time he would stick to it and not be swayed by her beautiful eyes… so warm and promising… no, stop this. Enough. He should just make his tea and be grateful for what he had here. A peaceful and secluded existence. The very same he had always wished for. No he had it and he would not give it up. Bad enough that this little excursion had almost led to his discovery. Thankfully the Granger girl had been too busy to really follow the scent she had undoubtedly already taken up. What a contrast to when she was a child. She wouldn't have let go back then. But life changed everybody and he knew the demands in a professional environment could dampen even the most enthusiastic spirits.

Sophie would be out cold until the evening. While the kettle was on the stove he went back into the living room and fetched a blanket to cover her with as well as conjuring a more comfortable pillow to rest her head on. As he was lifting her gently to put it under her head he gazed into her peaceful face.

She really had trusted him. He had taken her into one of the little locked up gardens shared by the georgian, edwardian and victorian town houses in the more well off areas of London. There he had sat her down on a bench and had handed her a had taken it from his hand and had held it up against the light.

"So this is it, huh? This is going to take me back to Cornwall?"

He had snorted.

"No, this is merely going to make you sleep."

"You still won't tell me how we are going to get back?"

He had looked down at his hands which he had folded in his lap and remained silent.

"Will you ever be able to tell me?"

At that he had looked up straight into her eyes.

"Are you sure you would really want to know?"

"Yes" she said with a smile as bright as the sun.

"Even if it meant that you might learn things about me you won't like?"

She had laughed at that. Her beautiful, ringing laughter.

"And what things could that be?"

He had looked away again, feeling like she wasn't appreciating the seriousness of the conversation.

"Sometimes there is more to people than you can tell on a first glance. We all have a past."

"Exactly, we all do. And I will not judge you for having a past. I like the person you are now. And that will not be changed by events that took place in your past."

"Are you so certain of that?"

"Yes."

The simplicity of this answer had astonished him.

"Yes? What if it was something that you could not approve of because of … your faith for example?"

"Like what? I really can't imagine what that could be. Give me an example."

"Well, for example if you were to find out something about me of which your bible says it is forbidden"

Again she had laughed merrily.

"Sam, I really can't think what that should be…"

He had looked away again. How was he to explain it? How could he make her understand without pushing her away?

"Never mind. It's not so important. Maybe someday you will know… for now, suffice it to say that it will get us back to Cornwall fast and safe."

Getting up on her feet she had moved to stand before him and had opened the vial. Without another word she had emptied it with one swift gulp and had handed it back to him empty. He had not expected her to act so suddenly and without another argument. So he had only just had time to catch her sleeping body before it had hit the ground. Silly girl. He had sat her down on the bench for a reason after all. But maybe she had thought it necessary after their conversation to prove that she trusted him.

And now she was here on his couch. Sleeping peacefully. Her face was not so swollen anymore. Her features were more defined again. He wondered what she would look like in a few weeks, when all the poison of the chemo and the magical treatment had left her system. Would she still want to know him then? Again he tried to shake off these thoughts. It wasn't helping at all to be thinking like this.

He left her sleeping and retreated to his lab to do some work and wait for the polyjuice to wear off.

When dusk came he went to the bathroom and saw in the mirror that his normal self was back again. Why she had wanted this face back was beyond him.

He went into the sitting room and found her still sleeping. She should be awake by now, the dose of the sleeping draught had been measured for approximately five hours. Of course, her present condition could prolong the effects, as could her being underweight. But all these things he had taken into account. He went over and used his wand to perform some simple diagnosis spells. Heartbeat and pulse were normal, brain activity also. He guessed she would wake up any moment now. He went back to the little kitchen area and made two cups of tea. By the time he had returned to the sitting room with the tray he found her blinking at him. He sat down in his comfortable armchair and placed the cups on the coffee table in front of the couch. She sat up and turned to look at him.

"Are we back then?" she said yawning.

"We are indeed." he said with a satisfied smirk on his face.

She stretched and heard the cracking of joints without feeling any pain. She was still perplexed by this. Happily she took up her cup and took a sip of the creamy brown liquid.

She felt it smoothness in her mouth and then swallowed it, savouring the light bitterness combined with the sweetness of the sugar and the barest hint of vanilla. Her eyes went wide.

"Wow, this must simply be the best tea I have ever had…what is it?"

Again he smiled, visibly pleased with himself.

"It's a darjeeling. It took me a long time to find it. A rare mutation which grows on a

secret plantation. The harvest is sold before the leafs have properly dried. It's not easy to get hold of it."

"But you do."

"Yes, a very persuasive tea merchant procures it for me. He owes me a favour."

She smiled at that. He was resourceful and obviously appreciated fine tasting things. She liked that.

She had a good look around. The interior of his cottage was simply furnished in light colours fitting with the sea views and the wall colours. She liked it a lot. It was just as she would have furnished it.

They spent the time drinking their tea with more of the easy and meaningless chatter he had come to so enjoy. Then, when darkness was beginning to fall, he suggested to take her down to her parents. She couldn't wait to tell them that the ordeal was all over now.


	18. Chapter 18

He had taken her home. Her parents had been overjoyed to see her, as had been expected. They did not quite believe she was healed, or so it seemed to Severus, but he knew they soon would when Sophie had fully recovered. For the moment they were just content to have her back with them. He hadn't stayed long, he thought it was better to leave them time to themselves. Sophie had extracted herself from her parents tight embrace to say goodbye to him. She had come over and at first she had just stood there and had looked up at him. Her eyes had had a slight glistening to them and she had worn a bright smile. She had reached up and put her arms around him, giving him a very tight squeeze which she had ended with a very tender kiss on his cheek. That kiss had burned on his cheek all the way home, all the way through the night and even the next morning he was sure he could still feel her soft lips on his rough cheeks. Even through all the hair of his beard. And the feeling of her slight body in his arms had imprinted itself equally into his memory. He couldn't stop thinking about it and felt stupid for it. Was he really that lonely and so starved for physical contact that a small hug could create such confusion and distraction? After he had cut himself chopping ingredients, he had decided it was best to spent the rest of the day working in the garden. But even there he couldn't escape the sweet memories. Instead he kept glancing down to check for any signs of her.

But what would he do if he saw her? He knew he wanted to go down there. He wanted to return to their old schedule: afternoon teas and conversations on all and nothing. He tried to understand what it was that made him so eager. It had felt so good to look forward to their teas. He was a bit angry at himself for feeling this way. Why did it make him feel so good? To sit with her and listen to her chatter, to sip the mediocre tea and laze about in the comfortable armchairs. Was it really just his need for company or was there more to it? He couldn't answer that question. But when he saw her stepping out on the lawn in the cottage garden, he immediately felt his heartbeat pick up. He stared at her like a bird of prey watches it's victims. What was that woman doing with him? Or better, what was he allowing her to do with him?

When it was about three he gave up, returned his gardening tools to their shed with a wave of his wand and went inside to shower. Afterwards he stood by the bathroom sink and stared into the mirror above it. His beard was dripping, as was his hair. He lifted the mass of hair in his face and saw the scar. He could see the teeth and where they had pierced his skin. They had ripped his skin open when the snake had withdrawn after striking him. The poisonous fangs had left the deepest marks. He had often wondered how the beast had not torn his carotid artery. Probably because it had wanted him to suffer. The poison was strong but it led to a slow and painful death. The loss of consciousness was only a superficial effect. The real torment came in unconsciousness. That was when the hallucinations and the neuralgia were most effective because you could not be woken from them. You were imprisoned within yourself, suffering silently. He would have rather had his throat cut or his jugular ripped out. He would have been dead within 2-3 minutes.

The scar kept reminding him of what he had experienced in his poisoned state. As if it wasn't enough that those same visions and nightmares came haunting him almost every night. He put his beard back over it.

And what would Sophie say if she ever saw it? What would she say if she ever learned who he truly was?

She wouldn't find out. She mustn't find out. He would make sure of it.

After he had dressed and had taken a moment to compose himself, he left to take the narrow path down into the cove. He walked slowly, still hanging on to the thoughts that had plagued him all day. As he stood in front of the door to her cottage he hesitated but he had no chance to turn back, the door swung open and he was faced with Sophie's mother.

"Ah, there you are! We wondered whether we would be seeing you today." she greeted him with a smile! That was a quick turn around… what had happened? Stunned he followed her into the sitting room where he found Sophie on the couch happily chatting with her father.

"Hello! You are here!"

She was on her feet instantly and enveloped him in a joyous embrace.

"I knew you would come. Are you ready for tea?"

She smiled her blinding smile at him again. And he felt the same warmth within him spread again. It was intoxicating to feel so welcome. He was reluctant to let her go again and answered hesitantly.

"I… yes, well, I thought I should come check on you. After all I'm supposed to give updates on your progress."

There, that was a safe answer. He had a convincing reason to be here and it had nothing to do with how he made him feel. It was a responsibility he had voluntarily taken upon himself but which he intended to fulfill. He could always use this argument. One more occasion in which he was grateful for his quick mind.

"Yes, of course. Well, sit down and I will tell you all about my evening and the first night out of the hospital."

She drew him down beside her on the couch and turned to him with her legs comfortably tugged away beneath her while her mother disappeared to prepare the tea and her father took up his tablet computer.

"Well, yesterday evening I ate with my parents. I still can't believe how hungry I was! I ate like I haven't eaten in months! And I enjoyed it! During chemo and after food always had this metallic taste to it, which I absolutely hated. But last night, it finally tasted like food again. I so enjoyed it! The taste of bread, the vegetables and the meat. It was so fantastic!"

Her eyes were shining and her enthusiasm was reflected in her body language. He felt like she could hardly keep herself from bouncing up and down like a little bouncy ball. It made him smile.

"And last night was … I can't even say it! I slept through… the entire night! No pain, no waking up, no restlessness. And when I woke up this morning I felt so rested and fresh. I can hardly remember when I last felt so good. I felt so strong! I walked through the garden and noticed that I still tire easily but I walked by myself and needed no support! Can you believe it?"

Her happiness was contagious and he was laughing silently at her.

"I am pleased you are feeling so well. But do remember not to exhaust yourself too much. I am aware that after such a long period of illness you are eager to live a normal life again but you must be patient and give your body more time to recover."

She smiled.

"Yes, I will not overexert, I promise. I just wanted you to know how happy I am and how grateful for your help."

"You are welcome."

Her mother brought the tea and they sat together drinking tea and eating biscuits. All in all it was a very pleasant afternoon and he went home after sharing their supper with a much lighter heart than he had come with. He even caught himself smiling as he walked back up to his cottage. What a fool he had turned into.


	19. Chapter 19

Sophie woke the next day feeling even better. She had so enjoyed the afternoon with Sam. He seemed more relaxed around her and her family as well now. She decided to not get up immediately, instead she stayed beneath her covers snuggling into her pillow and thinking about her husband. How strange. She was aware he had taken this step only to be able to help her. And all the circumstances of her trip to that strange hospital were quite mysterious but she had promised not to question it and since she was feeling so much better, something must have truly happened with her. After the many months that she had fought the cancer and after having been told that she was loosing this battle, the sensation of being free from the pain was still incredible. She was filled with such happiness and gratefulness and she thanked the Lord in her morning prayer for having sent Sam to her. But her thoughts also turned to the fact that she was a married woman now. She liked the sound of that. Should she refer to herself as Mrs. Ashworth now? Like the people at the hospital had done? And what would Sam say to that? Sam. She could clearly see his face before her when she closed her eyes. He had been there when she had woken up. He had stayed with her, not leaving her side. She mused how he had looked at the hospital and how he usually looked. She was sure it must have been some type of silicon mask. Something that secret services used or something like that. Maybe he had been involved in top secret operations and had saved the world without anybody knowing it? Rubbish. She chided herself for such childish fantasies. He was Sam. And she had come to …. Well, to what? Dare she call it love? Love his hair? The black, long slightly wavy and fine tresses with the one greyish - white strand at the front right side. Love his beard? That mass of coarse black and grey curls that covered most of his face. Love his nose? This big protruding nose of his, that reminded one of an ancient roman emperor? Love his eyes? Yes! His eyes. The dark piercing depths, that made you aware of the intellect behind them but at the same time warned you of a rough wilderness that would not be tamed. She definitely loved those eyes. And loved his voice...the deep dark notes that voice managed to produce, the quietness with which he usually spoke, his composed and measured way of bringing across his thoughts. Oh, if she never had loved anything in her life, but she knew she loved this voice and always would. It send shivers down her back to listen to him.

So what did that mean then? Did she love him? Was this love? Or was she just grateful for his help? But she had been fascinated by him before he had helped her. But then again, she had then thought she would die, so was that fascination back then merely an unconscious reaction, a last attempt of her pain addled mind to make her believe there was still something worth living for? And if not, what should she do about it? How could she find out whether he felt the same? Because she couldn't simply assume that he did, could she? But then, he obviously was taking some risk, marrying her so she could be treated in a hospital that other people had no access to. What if someone found out their marriage had only been a scam to ensure her treatment there? Surely he risked severe punishment. So why then did he risk that if he didn't care for her? Maybe he cared a little bit for her...or maybe he was just such a good person with such a good heart that he couldn't watch someone die when he had the power to save them?

Oh! All these thoughts would get her nowhere. If she wanted to find out how he was feeling about her, she would just have to do the grown up thing about it. She would have to speak to him. Or was that not the grown up thing to do? Should she forget about the very forward approach of a conversation and instead choose the more subtle strategy of seducing him? After all they were married… but she had no idea how to go about that… and frankly, she didn't feel very desirable in her current state. She was still looking horrible, still her body showed the signs of the ordeal it had gone through… maybe the conversation approach was the better option. They could sit together and talk it through like two adults that made a logical and informed decision together. After all he was a great fan of logic. He would appreciate that. And if he said no and she had misunderstood, it would be better to know now instead of keeping on assuming things and fantasize about things that would never become reality. It would also mean she would have to accept his rejection and preferably without an emotional break down. She would have to mentally prepare herself for this. She hoped she could.

She finally hoisted herself out of her bed and got ready for breakfast. Down in the kitchen she met her parents who anxiously enquired for her health. They looked equally disbelieving and relieved when she told them how well she was feeling. She described how rested she felt, how her joints didn't hurt and her back didn't hurt, how she didn't feel sick or dizzy, how her eyes had not been swollen when she had woken, how she was hungry and couldn't wait to get outside to walk in the garden.

After breakfast she did try a walk in the garden. She walked to the garden gate and looked up to the path that Sam always came down when he came to visit. What was he doing now? She hoped he would come down again this afternoon. Would he have time? Would he want to come again? He had had invested a lot of time in her lately. She did not want to be a burden to him. Still she hoped she would get to see him today. She really should ask him where he was living. She walked back to the house and around it. At the back she crossed the patio to walk to the other end where the herb garden was. She smelled the light fragrances and felt the warmth that was building with the rising sun by the stone enclosed backend of the garden. Even when she came back to the house she wasn't tired yet. So she and her parents decided to walk down to the restaurant and have their lunch there.

Sophie had just taken her place at the table by one of the big front windows when the door opened and Sam walked in. He looked around, saw them and without hesitation crossed over to their table.

"Hello."

"Hello! What are you doing here?" She knew she was smiling madly but she didn't care. Blast caution, why should she hold back? If he didn't want her, she prayed he would let her down gently, but she also realised that she didn't want to hide her feelings from him. She wanted him to know that he made her heart beat faster and that she couldn't wait to see him when he wasn't around. She went towards him and hugged him. He looked pleased and she pulled him to her parents. She didn't even ask if he wanted to sit with them but simply pulled out the chair next to hers for her.

They spent a pleasant lunch enjoying the delicious food which Sophie even managed to keep down this time. After nearly two hours they retired back to the Sophie's cottage and had tea on the patio. Her parents took the car to go grocery shopping.

They sat there with the tea and talked idly while Sophie was constantly asking herself whether she should use this chance to bring up what she actually wanted to talk about. After all she had decided that this would be what she wanted to do. She was looking for an opportunity to bring their conversation towards their marriage and ask his expectations. But at the same time she kept worrying. If he did not want the same as she did, would he still come down for teas if he knew? Or would he think it best to break their contact? Would she lose him? Was she pushing him if she initiated such a conversation? She was aware that men mostly didn't like being pushed into relationships. Oh for crying out loud! Why was all this so complicated? By the time her parents had returned she still hadn't dared to bring it up and so she gave up for the day completely. She was aware that her chickening out would mean that she would have to keep wondering about all of this. But in the end she decided that was better than risking an end to his visits.


	20. Chapter 20

The days past and late summer was beginning to turn into early autumn. Sophie was recovering fast. After a little deliberation Severus had decided to bring her some potions, labeled as herbal medicines of course, to help her body cleans itself from the poisons that the muggles called medicine. Her hair had started to grow again. An interesting shade of brown…lighter than chestnut brown but at the same time darker than it too, always depending on the way it was caught in the light. He found it fascinating. Equally fascinating was her curiosity for everything new. She was like a child when they went for short outings into the cliffs. Asking endless questions about these plants and those, pointing out this bird or that one, talking about sea life and all it's splendour. Her enthusiasm was intoxicating… at least to the degree he allowed himself to feel it. Her eagerness for life was … he had no way to describe it. She was just recovering from an episode that meant facing her own very real mortality. Most people's reaction, he suspected, would be to embrace live with all its fulness in any opportunity given. And that was what she was doing. But it wasn't as annoying as he had expected her joy to be. On the contrary, he sort of managed to let her infect him with it. And this often brought him back to how he had felt when he realised he was going to survive the snakes' attack. The moment when he had realised he was going to live, he was not dead. For him there had been no joy in this thought. Only pain. But now it was as if he could experience it again through Sophie. The threat of death, that had been lifted and turned into hope for a future. And he revelled in it, sinking into it at every opportunity and let it engulf him. And he noticed the changes it brought forth in him. The way he could suddenly appreciate a seagull's gravity defying flight manoeuvres to catch a treat, the way ice cream tasted after a walk on the beach. The way a fire warms your feet after dipping them in the cold sea and sensation slowly returns into your prickling toes. And while he was experiencing all this she transformed. Her features softened as she gained more weight. The dark circles under her eyes vanished and her skin tanned from the time spent outside. The puffiness of her face was gone. And on a day in mid September when he had come down to pick her up for an outing into town, he found himself face to face with a woman in a beautiful green dress, eyes alight, smiling brightly just for him. He stood frozen for a moment, gaping like a fish out of water and trying to process how he had not noticed what a beautiful woman was married to him. He could see she had made a special effort with her short hair, had put on a little make-up and had chosen shoes with heels that helped to show off her beautifully shaped legs, but how had he not seen this before? He let her lead him outside and spent the first half of their afternoon walking behind her in a daze, feeling like a fool. He was only shaken out of it when he started to notice the looks she received from other men.

First it was the guy at the ice cream parlour. He had brought over their order and complemented her with appreciative smile. Severus had felt mildly irritated at

that.

When they had walked in the backstreets to town to shop for Sophie's mum , a man had passed them and had tried to catch Sophie's eye, turning his head after her when he had past. Then, Severus had felt a twitching of his right hand with the unconscious urge to reach for his wand. But that had only been for a moment. However, he had started to feel really angry when they were on the bus back to Lamorna and some tourist with a build like a middle aged adonis engaged Sophie in a conversation. Apparently he was a theatre enthusiast and since Sophie loved the performing arts as well they spent the entire way chatting about plays, the Minack theatre and films. Things he had no idea about. But he felt more than left out. He felt tossed aside and ignored and that made him angry. For two reasons it made him angry. First of all he did not want her to pay attention to that git and ignore him. After all he had saved her life and had taken care of her. But secondly, he did not want to feel the way he did. After all there was no agreement between them, she had not pledged herself to him and he had no right to expect that from her. And she probably never would. So why couldn't he let go of these feelings? He would only get hurt again if he allowed himself such feelings. He'd been through this, he really didn't feel up for more disappointment. He kept pondering on this while the bus made its slow way along the small inland street that led to Lamorna. When they came to their bus stop the annoying idiot decided to join them. For some reason Sophie had told him that the access to the coastal path, which led straight to the Minack theater, was much easier to find in Lamorna than in Mousehole. He happily trotted along drowning Sophie in his useless opinions on modern plays. Severus became more and more angry. He did keep a straight face though. It was none of his business with whom Sophie decided to waste her time. And she had spent a lot of time with him lately. Maybe she was fed up with him? Maybe she hadn't enjoyed the time they had spent together as much as he had? And to be fair, what did he have to offer to a woman nearly 20 years younger, good looking, charming and not possibly interested in him? A hollow feeling took over inside him, like a poison seeping into every pore of his being. He had been misleading himself again. The longer the three of them were walking down the winding little road that led into the cove the more Severus quietly worked himself into a state of anger and despair. This vicious cycle had started spinning in his head and once again it seemed he was unable to stop it. He knew this feeling, the helplessness that fueled his rage. But it had been a long time since he had last felt it… when had it been? When Sirius Black had fled the dementors or when the Potter brat had managed to break down his mental barriers in the occlumency lessons?

What did it matter. He had to master it. He couldn't allow it to rule him again. Not over something that wasn't in his power anyway. He tried to push his feelings away and when the annoying tourist said his goodbye he thought he could just leave it. Sophie invited him inside for tea and while they joined her parents in the sitting room she told them all about the bloody idiot. He needed to get out, longed for the solitude of his cottage where he could silently stew his anger until it had evaporated. He got up to leave when Sophie addressed him surprised.

"You're off already?"

He did not want to answer, fearing he would be giving away too much of his feelings by doing so. He just looked at her and turned to leave.

"Wait, Sam! Are you OK? Is everything alright?"

No, nothing was alright. And he wanted to shout it straight into her face. Instead he just left.

The following days he spent trying to shut down his emotions. He busied himself digging to make a new patch for kitchen herbs… something he had talked about with Sophie. But he firmly told himself he was doing it to enhance his own meals. The physical work of digging, dragging stones about to make a dry wall that would keep the soil in place while at the same time saving the warmth of the sun and finally planting the herbs helped him. But within two days he was ready and if he was honest with himself he hadn't stopped thinking about it all. It was still lingering in the back of his mind. She was never going to be his and she would find some handsome, young prince charming and be gone from his life.

On the third day the sun was strong for an early autumn day. He weeded the other patches and had just straightened his back when he saw her walking towards his cottage. He had completely forgotten that because she had been here she could now find it on her own! How had that escaped him? He felt panic rising within him. He did not want to face her. Didn't want to have to explain why he had left so suddenly. What should he do? But he had no time to consider an escape plan, she had already opened the little garden gate and was purposefully walking up the garden path.

"Hello stranger. Long time no seen."

Stranger? He was no property of hers and she had no right to complain to him about his absence! He did not answer and picked up his tools to take them back into the shed.

"Hey? Sam? What's the problem? Are you mad at me for some reason? Did I do something?"

He still didn't answer. She was following him into the house but he still tried to ignore her.

"Sam, if I did something wrong I am sorry, but this strategy of ignoring me is neither very effective nor very grown-up…. right, you still won't talk. OK. I'll just sit down here and wait til you change your mind."

Yes, she would do that and stay there on that damn couch. Best to get it over with then. He had to protect himself. She was feeling better and she didn't need him anymore now. Better he ended it now before she walked away from him.

"I was not aware I had a duty to be your royal entertainer."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. What makes you think you can simply barge in on me here as you please?"

"I was just…"

"You were just thinking you would come up here uninvited and get on my nerves with your useless bickering?"

"No, hey, wait a moment… Can you tell me what set you off like this?"

"I believe I just told you."

"No, you are being an ass, that's what you're doing."

"So you are not just here to get on my nerves, you are also insulting me."

"Sam!"

"What do you want from me, Sophie?"

"I … What do you mean?"

"What I said. What do you want? You are healed, you are better and you are clearly looking to get on with your life. I won't be in your way."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"I thought you have a certain command of the English language, enough anyway to understand what I'm saying."

"Where is all this coming from? What happened? Can you please explain to me why you are behaving this way? I mean, we were having a good time together, at least I never had the impression you came down to visit out of a sense of obligation. Why, three days ago you spent the entire afternoon with me again till you stormed out without another word. What happened?"

"I have nothing more to say. You should leave now."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"You… I can't believe this. What the…"

"There is certainly no need for profanities."

"Sam!"

"I do know my name, thank you."

"This is just… I don't believe this. At least tell me why you are sending me away."

"I told you I have nothing more to say to you."

"Sam, you took me to a secret facility to heal me, you spent days sitting by my bed…"

"You are overestimating your own importance."

"...Sam, you married me!"

"Well, maybe I shouldn't have."

"What?"

He realised, that had been taking it a step too far. His anger started to surge again and if he didn't manage to get her out of his home soon, this would all go terribly wrong. He wanted a clean break.

"Right, Sophie, I married you. I married you so you could receive the treatment that would save your life. Your life is saved, you can now return to the life you had before we met."

"You are seriously trying to tell me that's all there is to this?"

"I don't know what more could be there."

"Sam, you sat by my bed…"

"That was part of the role, as your husband it would have looked rather strange if I had been galavanting about while my wife was fighting for her life."

"It was all just an act?"

"Of course it was."

"I don't believe you."

"That is your problem, not mine."

"Sam, I saw how you suffered with me, saw how relieved you were when they said I was going to be OK."

"Yes, that was also what was expected of me."

"And what about all the time we spent together? The walks, the outings to town…"

"Sophie, what are you complaining about?"

"I simply don't understand what's going on. What do you mean: 'You can go back to your old life now, Sophie?'... I am happy with this life, with the walks, the ice creams and.."

"Oh, you are, are you?"

"Yes!"

"That's interesting."

"Why?"

"Well, the other day I had the impression you would have been happier if I had not been in the way."

"What? When? When, you were never in my way!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"And what about the guy in the ice cream parlour?"

"What guy?"

"The waiter."

"Well, what about him?"

"Or this annoying tourist."

"He was just looking for a chat."

"A chat?"

"Yes!"

"I think he was looking for something completely different… and you didn't seem to be opposed to that in the slightest."

"I was just chatting with him."

"You were flirting with him."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were."

"No, I was simply having a nice conversation with a tourist who was alone and was looking for some social contact."

"Ahhh yes, I know what kind of contact that guy was after."

"Sam, this is ridiculous. I was just chatting with him. And if you really don't care for me, like you say you don't, then why does it upset you so?"

There, he had allowed her to drive him into a corner. He needed to end this, now.

"I will not listen to this any longer."

You cannot walk out on me."

"And what should stop me? You?"

"Sam, listen, let's not … let's just talk about this, OK? If you are upset about me talking to that guy, then maybe it would help if you told me why it upsets you?"

"I have no desire to continue this conversation and you should really leave now!"

The last bit he had shouted, he was losing control. She had to leave, he had to drive her away before he completely lost it.

"Sam, please, I really don't want us to part like this."

"You don't? Maybe you should have thought about that before you threw yourself at that guy."

"I did no such thing, Sam. Please stop this nonsense. I only spoke with him because he was alone and had no one else to talk to. I went to town with you, I invite you round for teas and you go for walks with me, don't you understand?"

"I guess that is perfectly acceptable when considering that there is not much of a selection of possible companions about. I have no interest, however, to become an obstacle once you return to your own life, which you undoubtably will sooner or later."

"Sam, we will find a way to sort things out when I have to return to Germany, this does not have to be the end."

So she was thinking about leaving him and going back. He had known it, it couldn't have been any other way. He had known it!

"Just go!"

"Sam, please!"

"No! I have no interest in some harlot that has no sense of decency."

"What? How dare you call me that!"

"I call you what you deserve to be called, what any woman deserves to be called that displays such a lack of propriety."

"I have not displayed anything!"

"You flirted with that guy!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did. Don't lie to me!"

"How can I lie to you, you were there and you saw that I did not! I really don't know what has gotten into you, but don't think you can treat me like this just because you are a bloody coward that is afraid of his own feelings!"

"I'm not a coward!"

It had happened so fast. So fast. He hadn't noticed he had raised his hand, hadn't noticed he had hit her in the face until he had heard the terrible smacking noise. She had fallen to the side and landed half on the couch. He stared at her in horror. What had he done? He hadn't wanted this to happen! She should have just left, hell, why hadn't she left? Now he had ruined it all again. He had ruined it all.

She sat up slowly and gingerly touched her cheek.

"I think I should go now."

She got up and walked out. He still stood there, just looking after her.


	21. Chapter 21

He hadn't meant to do this. How could he have let it get so far? Why had he not managed to make her leave? It was all so … familiar. It was as if it was all happening again. Why was he not able to keep people he cared for in his life? What was it about him that made him destroy it all, every time? Every single bloody time. His mother. Lilly. Dumbledore. Sophie. The list of people, that had had a bigger place in his life, was depressingly short as it was. Why was he not … what was it, that he was not? Caring enough? Careful enough? Respectful and mindful of other people's feelings enough? His thoughts were turning in circles in his mind again. The same feeling of going insane, that he had battled so many times, so many dark hours, that he thought he had left behind for good, it was back. He stayed inside, in his lab, trying to avoid sleep for as long as he could. He didn't want to go outside, didn't want to see her pack the car with her parents and leave. After two days, when his hands were shaking with fatigue and he had wasted a particularly expensive batch of half-finished potions due to this, he sank down beside the work table, exhausted and tired, more of himself than of sleep, and began to weep bitterly. There would be no salvation for him, no repentance, no forgiveness. He was, and had always been, destroyed. A damaged being, that could not be healed.

He didn't know how much time had passed. He had fallen asleep on the floor. His bones were aching when he tried to get up. At nearly sixty he should really stop such nonsense. Things were the way they were. And he should face them like a man.

He went to the bathroom and then made himself a coffee. He took it outside. It was a stormy day. Rain clouds were drawing in from the west. The wind was violent, but on his sheltered porch he could sit wrapped in a blanket and watch nature unfold it's own justice upon this world. He wished he could be swept away with the water. Out into the endlessness of the ocean. There none of this would matter anymore. He wouldn't matter. What he had done wouldn't matter and what had been done to him wouldn't matter. Nothing would…

He couldn't remember how long he had been sitting out there. He was cold and shivering by the time he got up. He glanced down into the cove and saw the car standing by the end of the cottage garden. So they were packing. He fled inside. She was leaving. She really was. And so she should. No, she shouldn't. She should come back and forgive him. Didn't she say she was a freakin' Christian? Wasn't it their duty to forgive? Where was she?

No, she would not come.

It took him a long time to pick himself up off the couch again. It was dark outside. He glanced at the clock on the mantel piece of his little fireplace. Nearly nine. She would still be awake. He picked up his cloak, fastened it around him and left down the path into the cove.

He knew he could not expect her forgiveness. But he wanted to say sorry anyway. He did not want to part like this. He would try. And if she shut the door in his face then so be it. She had every right to.

By the time he had made it to her door, he was soaking wet. The storm had blown his cloak away from him and he had not bothered to draw it around him. Secretly he hoped she would have pity on him when she saw him like this and that might increase his chance of her listening to him.

When the door opened he found himself face to face with Sophie's mother, who was obviously not very pleased to see him. She didn't even say hello, she just stood there and looked at him.

"I would like to see Sophie."

Her mother's English was better than her father's, and she answered him lacing her words with a great amount of dislike.

"Sophie will not want to see you."

This could have become a very long and very frustrating conversation, had Sophie not chosen this moment to appear behind her mother.

"Who is it, m…, oh."

"Sophie, I need to talk to you."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

She turned to leave. He manoevered himself past her mother into the hallway and wanted to take her by the arm to stop her. She turned and looked warningly at his outstretched hand. He let his hand sink immediately.

"Sophie, I… I ...Sophie...what I did was inexcusable. And I do not expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know that I know that I have been wrong… and that I am sorry."

He looked at her pleadingly.

"Sam, you hit me square in the face!"

"I know."

"We were just arguing and when you ran out of things to say you just hit me!"

By now she was shouting in his face.

"I know, Sophie."

"Why should I listen to you then?"

He hesitated.

"I don't know. I really don't know. I don't know what came over me, I don't know why I lost control."

How could he explain it? How could he say that he hated being called a coward? That being called a coward reminded him of what he hated most about himself: the moment when he should have stood up against Voldemort, when he should have killed him before he could get to Lilly. He had gone over it in his mind for nearly forty years cursing himself for having taken the easy way out and leaving it to Dumbledore, when really he should have used his proximity to the Dark Lord and tried to kill him himself, no matter what the cost.

And how could he tell her about all his feelings for her? About how he had hated to see that git flirting with her and how it had made him feel small, insignificant and unwanted? He didn't know how to put such things into words. But he knew if he wanted a chance here he would have to find the courage to speak.

He looked down, silently wishing his own past away and praying that he would find the right words.

When he looked back up at her, he saw that her eyes had softened, that the harshness of her anger was gone from them and had been replaced by doubt and hesitation.

"You were jealous. Why were you jealous?"

Here it went. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I… I was jealous, yes."

There, it was out. And as if this little confession had suddenly opened the floodgates that had kept his tongue in check, he continued.

"I was jealous because I wanted you for myself. I didn't want to share your attention with that idiot. I...I thought I had deserved that after having saved your life, I thought I deserved you. But I was wrong."

"Why did you want me for yourself?"

He looked at her hoping she did not want to hear him say what he didn't want to admit even to himself. But she didn't relent.

"Why did you want me for yourself, Sam? What could you want with me?"

He hesitated. He wanted to say it. But he was also scared to say it. He wasn't sure whether he would have the strength to say it aloud until he had actually opened his mouth.

"I...I want you."

He paused, unsure how to go on. But he had nothing to lose anymore. With this confession he had already given her the power to hurt him, reject him, laugh about him and leave his soul in a heap of shreds on the ground. He might just as well finish it.

"I have not much to offer. In fact, I am probably the most nasty and cruelest person you will ever meet. But ...you...I mean, I ...when you are there, it's all...When you are there, I feel there is hope for me. Does that make sense?"

Now she even smiled at him. Only slightly, but he could see there was no ridicule and no rejection.

"I think it does."

And then her face closed up again and she became serious once more. And his hope, that had gotten itself ready to soar high just a moment before, withdrew again into the dark corner it had inhabited these last decades.

"Sam, you must know by now that I really enjoy your company, and that I am very grateful for everything you did for me?"

"But?" he asked resignedly.

"I do care for you. But not enough to give up my own happiness. Do you understand?"

He just looked down.

"Yes, of course."

"No, Sam, you don't. What I mean is… you need me to give you hope and love you. But if in return I am hit in the face, that seems like a really bad bargain to me."

His head snapped up again at this.

"I didn't mean to hit you!"

"But you did. And that's a fact. You could not control your anger. And that scares me. I have seen what a violent relationship can do to all people involved. My grandfather was a very violent man. And my mum is still suffering from it. I promised myself, I would never allow a man to treat me this way. I would never be one of those women that stay with a man and always find excuses for his violence, believing him, when even after the tenth time that he swore it would never happen again, he still hit her and she still stayed. Completely giving myself up to be someone else's punching bag is just not who I am. I value my own life too much to do that."

He understood that. But she needed to understand that it would never happen again. How could he make her?

"I agree. That is not who you are. But I can also promise you that it will really never happen again. I am not much, Sophie, but I am a man of my word. Once I give a promise, I will keep it, no matter what the cost. I will never raise my hand against you again."

"Why should I believe you?"

He was thinking feverishly… if only he could tell her the truth about himself, he could make an unbreakable vow and she would believe him.

"I can guarantee it."

"How?"

"There are ways I have...it has to do with the things I can't talk about. But I can make sure that should I ever raise my hand against you again, I will drop dead."

At those words her eyes opened wide and she stared at him in horror.

"Drop dead? Why on earth would I want you to drop dead?"

He was taken aback by her reaction. And unsure how to continue.

"Well, wouldn't that be the best solution? I mean, you would feel safe and we could be together and you would believe me, right?"

"No, Sam, not right! I would never want you to drop dead over a fight with me! For Christ's sake, what is wrong with you? I want you to live and be happy and find peace within yourself, because I think that is what you are lacking most. But I would not ever want you to be hurt or even die!"

"If you want me to be happy, then give me a chance." He tried to sound as pleading as he could. "Please!"

"Sam,..."

"Sophie, I swear to you, you will not ever have to fear me. I swear it! Give me only one chance! If I should ever as much as raise a threatening finger towards you, you can pack up and leave and I will not stop you. I swear it! Really!"

He could see she was considering it, could see the little wheels in her head turning in his favour. Just a little more...one more argument in his favour. Quick, Severus, think quick!

"Give me this chance...and you will never in you entire life find someone who will love you more, be more faithful and more caring than I will be."

He had spoken as softly as he could. As if talking to a wild deer that you tried to lure into a trap. He put all the earnestness he could muster into his next words.

"Please, Sophie, I mean what I say."

And he had her! He could see the shift, he could almost hear how her heart opened to him again, saw how her eyes lit up. But the words she spoke still held distrust and suspicion. He would have to be careful and stay true to his words. She would not forget his promise and she would watch for any sign of betrayal.

"OK. One more chance. But if you don't keep your word I will be gone. Forever. There will be no further arguments and no room for negotiation. You treat me badly one more time and we are history. Understand?"

He smiled. Yes, he would use this chance. He would not ruin it this time and he would make her trust him. She turned away and wiped her eyes.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, still smiling.

She turned back to him and looked him straight in the face.

"I am giving you my life here. My heart, my soul, my everything. I am laying it into your hands, even though I am not sure you will not crush me. I am giving up the promise I gave myself and the self-respect that promise demanded. And I don't know why I am doing that. There is no valid logical reason why I should do that, and since you are a man that argues purely on logical reasons you may be able to understand what it is costing me to do this. I hope you will proof yourself worthy of this."

With that she turned and walked into the sitting room. That was a very cold dose of reality she had just emptied out on him. She was right though. But he had already resolved he would not betray the trust she had put in him. And unlike so many other resolutions he had lately made and then broken, he was determined to keep this one to the day he took his last breath.


	22. Chapter 22

Sophie had disappeared through the door to the sitting room and he looked after her with mixed feelings of relief and excitement. Never before had he received a second chance. He felt eyes on his back and looked around to see her mother staring angrily at him. He looked down and saw that he was dripping on the carpet; slowly a little puddle was forming at his feet. He looked back up at her apologetically but she just went past him into the loo and came out with a towel that she shoved at him and hissed viciously:

"If you hurt her again, I will personally castrate you and then kill you, do you understand me?"

Merlin! He had not expected that kind of language. But it would not do to make an enemy in her. Sophie was close to her parents and he would not risk putting her in a position where she would have to take sides. It might end badly for him. Better play nicely. So he tried his most reassuring face and said:

"I promise, I will never give her cause to regret her decision. Quite the contrary. It is my intention to make her happy and give her everything she wants."

He turned to follow Sophie into the living room while trying to towel his hair. She sat in her customary armchair by the fire.

"You do look like you could do with a hot shower."

"Yes, but I will have to go back outside again anyway so I better do that now and have my shower at home."

She nodded and got up.

"One more thing, Sam." He looked at her and felt that unwelcome feeling of panic welling up in him again. How could it be different. He had only ever known rejection and opening a sentence like this meant making a demand and making demands meant affection was handed out only under conditions. But he knew this and he had known it all his life. He would be able to deal with it.

"Please shave that wild beast in your face to something more manageable? Pretty Please? Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be one of those women that try to change each and everything about a man and try to mold him into something they are not…"

"Why, thank you very much."

"...but this beard, I can't see your face properly and …" The last of the sentence was left hanging in mid-air as he turned away from her. Hadn't he just resolved he could take whatever she was going to say? But now she criticised his looks! He knew he wasn't bloody Lockhart, but Merlin, he had thought…anyway. She didn't like him with his beard, she would like him even less if she ever saw all of his face. He would have to find an excuse.

"Sam? Is everything alright? I really didn't mean…"

"No, it's OK. It's just, I have a rather ugly scar on my neck and I hate it when people stare at it."

"A scar?"

She walked towards him, turned him around and without asking gathered his beard and lifted it. When she saw it, he waited for a reaction, not daring to breath.

"Oh, yes… oh my, that looks painful. What happened?"

And she had done it again. Her reaction was as if she was looking at an insect bite rather than a horribly disfiguring scar inflicted by the monstrous pet snake of a megalomaniac. But then again, how could she know? In her world such things did not exist. He hoped he could keep it like that. But to do so he needed a credible explanation.

"I… I had an accident…"

"An accident? That looks like bite marks…?"

Blast it, that woman was too observant for her own good. And she had demonstrated that she knew the animals of her world quite well. What now?

"Yes,... it was a… a rather unfriendly encounter I do not wish to dwell upon. But if the sight of the scar is not too distressing for you, I shall remove the beard." He needed to distract her and the easiest way to get her to move on was to give her what she had asked for.

"For me? How does it feel for you? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, I thought you merely kept this beard as some sort of statement. But it has a purpose for you and I don't want you to suffer just because I… well, I want to see your face."

She had hesitated. He had heard it. And she had looked down to hide… a blush! She was blushing! Why was she embarrassed by this conversation? He found this quite intriguing. He would have to find out more about this. But first he would go home have a bath and then ...shave. If she wanted the full experience, she was going to get it.

"You don't have to shave it all, I mean, just give it a shape and … a more … well, a length that doesn't make it look like you are planning to compete in a Best Santa Beard competition in 20 years time."

So she had mistaken his silence for hesitation and wasn't making demands but making a request? Maybe she wasn't like everyone else after all. He wasn't convinced yet whether he should allow himself to believe this but when in the last few weeks had his blasted heart listened to what his head had told it?

He bowed slightly in a mock salute and withdrew to brave the heavy rains outside on his way home without another word.

So it was time to play now. He smiled to himself as he walked back to his cottage. He had not had much experience in real courtship. Oh, he did know how to flirt. Well, maybe "flirt" wasn't the right way to say it. The women he had known closely were always aware that he had no interest in a relationship. And he had never needed to use too much energy on seduction. In fact, his dark and distant behaviour as well as his sarcasm and his moods had made him a popular "victim". At least for the women in the social circles he had to move in for most of his adult live before he had officially died. So he had had his share of experiences in the physical aspects of things but he had no idea how to win a woman's heart. Still he would give it his best. He was determined to use this chance.

Again and again Sophie had proven that she was different. Different from all other women he had ever met. Different even from Lilly. Where she had not given him a second chance, Sophie had. She was prepared to let him make up for his mistake. She was a rare gem and he had no intention of letting her go again. If he had the slightest chance for happiness it would be with her. And he would do anything to make her want to be with him. He suspected she had a soft spot for him. He couldn't imagine she had deeper feelings for him, it was probably a mixture of gratitude and intrigue. But if that's what she was willing to give, he would happily take it and not complain. He wasn't going to expect her to fall head over heels for him. But maybe in time feeling for him could grow… if he didn't mess up again.

But surely after all the things he had been through and all the hurt he had experienced, surely it was now time that something good happened to him, right?


	23. Chapter 23

Sophie was left spending the evening contemplating whether she had made the right decision. It had been difficult. She had told him why. The past of her mother and her grandmother had left a trace in her. She had grown up with it right in front of her and yet had not understood until much later why her grandmother had always kept her bedroom door locked, why she never sat at the table when she and her grandfather had lunch. She had always taken her chair and sat it by the oven and ate with her plate on her lap. She had never sat next to her husband. And when they had argued she had always kept a distance to him. She had always tried to be at the other end of the room. Those were things Sophie herself remembered. She didn't want to know about all the things that had happened when she hadn't been around. And later, when she had understood, she had decided that she was never going to be treated like that. Her grandmother hadn't been a scared and timid woman. On the contrary. She had been strong and stern and had very seldomly lost her countenance. Sophie wanted to be like that, but she did not want to have to experience the same difficulties that had shaped her grandmother. She wanted a relationship with a man on equal terms. And she wasn't sure that Sam could give that to her. He was older. Almost twenty years her senior. So maybe he still had those old-fashioned views that women were inferior to man. Maybe that was the reason why he had hit her. And maybe that would be the reason why he wouldn't be able to keep his promise and why it would happen again. But on the other hand she had felt like she was missing something huge when they hadn't been seeing each other after what had happened. And that was what she had felt every time they didn't see each other since she had met him. How very strange. She barely knew this man. In fact, she felt like she didn't know him at all. He was an enigma to her. And still she wanted him around. She wanted him close and she couldn't get enough of looking into his impossibly dark eyes and hearing his deep, velvety voice, of laughing about his wit and sarcasm and learning from his vast knowledge about all things natural.

So she was sitting in her armchair, staring into the fire and searching herself as to whether she was happy with her decision to give him a second chance. And while she was doing that a calmness settled over her. She followed it and it led her to a deep sense of happiness. A feeling so profound and real, it spread through her like a warm and soothing current of energy. And it resulted in a childishly enthusiastic hope for the future. She was looking forward to that.

Somehow she had survived this disease, somehow she had met an incredibly intriguing man and somehow all this felt like it was meant to be. She said a silent prayer to thank the Lord and included Sam, asking that her feelings weren't misleading her.


	24. Chapter 24

When next they saw each other, Severus proved he had been true to his promise. His long beard was gone and had been replaced by a very much shorter version which covered only his upper lip and his chin, leaving the cheeks clean and smooth. Sophie liked this new look a lot and made sure to tell him so. The following two weeks past quickly. They were spent in their former routine. Sophie grew stronger and looked healthier with every day and the walks she took with her parents in the mornings became longer and longer. In the afternoons she either had tea with Sam in the cottage or they went for little outings either to St. Ives or to Penzance. But since their last visit to town had found such a catastrophic ending, she found herself always keeping a watchful eye at how men looked at her and making sure she would focus on Sam more when a stranger was looking at her or talked to her. She would include in her sentences that he was her husband and include him in any small talk she was drawn into. He could see her nervousness. At the same time he enjoyed the attention she gave him. But after a while his feelings for her won over his own ego and he resolved to talk to her about it. He didn't want her to be scared of him and what she was doing was definitely a sign that she feared it would happen again. So when they were walking on the beach in St. Ives after another of such episodes, he decided to bring it up.

"Sophie, are you scared of me?"

"What? No! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Are you sure? Since … well, since what happened, you seem very eager to make sure I don't feel left out when you attract attention."

"Well… "

"Sophie, I meant what I said. I will not do that again." He still couldn't bring himself to say what had happened. And he wished this would never have to be discussed between them again. As time had past he had become more and more ashamed of his behaviour. Especially when Sophie was doing her best to make him feel wanted.

"I will never hit you again. You don't have to fear me. And I don't want you to fear me. I want… I want us to be partners. On eye level. You know what I mean? I am aware that we a different… in more ways than one. But you have so many qualities that I admire, and that I don't have. I … What I want to say is… if we can… I mean… blast it, this is difficult."

Sophie laughed out loud and he looked at her with a frown. But her laugh was infectious and he did love it when she was laughing. Especially when he made her laugh. No matter why. He loved it when she was relaxed and happy because it meant that she felt safe with him and that's what he wanted more than anything else. Because only then, he knew, she would be willing to give herself completely to him. Body, mind and soul. And the possessive, craving and rejected little Severus inside him yearned for that.

"I love it when you laugh." He couldn't help the smile that was spreading across his face when he said these words. He felt himself relax which was strange since he was revealing something very personal and that had never felt so easy and so simple before.

She looked up at him and smiled back. She didn't say anything, she just smiled and took his hand to hold it in both of hers.

"Sophie, I want us to be equals" he tried again. Maybe now the right words would come to him.

"This isn't a game to me. I want us to be partners and to be trusting each other. I know I have given you little reason to believe me so far. But I will prove it to you. I am different to you in many ways and I am not an easy person to be around. I know that. But I will try my best to become a better man. A man who is worthy of you and whom you can be proud of. That's what I want to be."

She looked at him in consternation.

"Wow, you sound like out of a Jane Austen novel."

He felt a little embarrassed at that comment. Had he revealed too much of himself? Was she going to laugh at him now and tell him he was silly?

But she didn't. She remained serious when she answered.

"Sam, I don't want you to be another man. I like the man you are now. I don't want you any different." He snorted at that.

"Sophie, you don't know what kind of man I am."

"I know enough to know that I feel more for you." She looked down in defiance of his comment and in embarrassment of her own boldness. Was she willing to reveal her feeling to him now? She had been hesitant before and hadn't dared to open up to him. Was now the right moment?

"Listen Sam, this isn't a game for me either… I … when I agreed to marry you… it wasn't just...goodness, you are right this is difficult." and then she burst out in laughter again. He smiled this serene smile of his again. The one she loved so much.

"Sam, I didn't marry you because I believed you would save me, you know?"

He looked at her with surprise at that.

"Actually, when I did agree to marry you, I didn't think for a moment I would survive." His face darkened at that and he was opening his mouth to say something but she continued before he could.

"I thought I would die. And I thought, if I have to die then I would rather die being your wife. You are a fascinating and strong man. Since I met you I have admired you and my regard for you grew with every moment we spent together."

That did silence him. She could practically hear his mouth snap shut again.

"I wanted to marry you because I ... I wanted to be connected to you in some way. I … You have made me feel things I have never felt before… for any man. It is so weird with you. There are moments when everything between us is as if I had known you forever, and then there are moments when I am so embarrassed and feel so vulnerable as if I was baring my soul to a total stranger."

Now he was laughing. A quiet rumbling sound, so seldom heard but welcome and loved all the more.

"Yes, I know. I… I feel the same way." He looked at her with an openness she had never seen in his eyes before. And she saw the uncertainty and a great deal of the vulnerability she had just described herself.

Inside her a wave of feelings came down on her and swallowed her whole. All she wanted to do was hug this man, hold him close and tell him he was safe with her and that she would never do anything to hurt him. And that she loved him. But she held back. Unsure of how he would receive such openness knowing he was an extremely private person. If she could have seen into his thoughts she would have realised that actually it was all he wished for too, but she couldn't and so she merely smiled up and squeezed his hand, which she was still holding.

"I know this is probably more than you expected. I mean… you married me to be able to help me… but if you are willing…"

"No."

"What?"

He looked down.

"No...I didn't marry you just to help you." He stopped in his tracks and looked out to the sea.

"I married you because I couldn't bear the thought that you would die...because … because I couldn't ...didn't want to lose you." He didn't dare to look at her. But at his words she felt as if her heart stopped beating. She held her breath, waiting to hear whether he would say more, and he did.

"I… You are too precious to me. So you see I didn't do it to help you, I did it to help myself. And that is how I am. I am selfish and … possessive and ...impossibly bad tempered at times. Actually most of the time." Now he did look down at her and there was great sadness in his features.

"I can't say… well… nobody would ever call me prince charming. I am an old sod who has had a miserable life. But since you came into my life I have found hope. And if you would be willing… I mean, I you could find it in yourself to give me a chance, then I would like us to… you know...be … I mean...be a couple. I mean a real couple. Not just on a piece of paper. I want you to be my wife." There, it was out. Now what would she do?

She looked at him, first no reaction was readable on her face, but then a smile spread slowly, like a sunrise, on her face.

"Yes, I would very much like to be your wife." And this time she did not hold back. She reached up, threw her arms around him and held him in a hug that was to let him know she would always be by his side. She squeezed him as tightly as possible. And he hugged her, squeezing her back and holding her as close as he could. And for a moment they stood there on this overrun St. Ives beach as if they were the only two people left on the planet.

Slowly he loosened his hold on her and she looked up into his face, mesmerized by his eyes. He wanted to use the moment. Who knew when he would have such a chance again? He slowly bent his head towards her face, giving her the chance to withdraw. But she didn't. She stayed close to him and looked into his eyes. And ever so carefully he place his lips on hers and the world ceased to exist. All he could feel was the tenderness of her lips, their softness and his own heart beating in his chest as if it was about to explode. His blood was rushing through his veins. And the slight touch of this chaste kiss send electric shocks through his entire system. It was so perfect. It was so much everything he had ever wanted. And he never wanted this moment to end. In that very moment he was sure, that everything and all that had happened before was nothing. His entire life before he had met Sophie was meaningless. He was so certain that he had been born only for this moment and that he wanted to live only for her.


	25. Chapter 25

Severus Snape was now a man in a relationship. And it didn't feel half as strange as he had feared it would. He was still nervous around her but so was she and that made it alright. And he didn't feel any of the revolting feelings he had always felt when he had watched other couples in public displaying their affection. It felt so natural to hold her hand when they went into town or for walks. He felt like he was floating on a cloud whenever she stole kisses from him while they were out and about and her parents did not seem to mind either. He never initiated any of these open signs of their feelings for each other. He still didn't feel confident enough. It was different when they were alone though. Sometimes she visited his cottage and then he'd pull her down on the couch next to him and they spent their time together in each other's arms snogging like teenagers. He felt confident then but he also felt that she didn't. She was hesitant and it took her a while to relax. But in the end she would and those were his very favourite afternoons.

Sophie was happy beyond anything she had ever known. This man had a power over her she couldn't comprehend. And to be close to him, to know that he would from now on always be there, caused such feelings of joy that she was sure her heart would burst whenever she looked at him. When they were out and about she felt like a bouncing ball, wanting to jump up and down all the time and she found it hard to reign herself in. She would take his hand so she could hold on to him and let his presence ground her. And every now and then she would lean over, or when they walked she would reach up, and kiss him. He seemed to like it. At first he had looked around, a slight embarrassment obvious in his body language, but after a while he didn't seem to care anymore. When they were alone it was quite different however. Then it was her who felt embarrassed by his actions. He did not hold back in letting her know that he wanted her and, even though she enjoyed his attention, to some degree it also scared her. She was very aware that she could not stop him if he ever decided to take a step she wasn't yet prepared to take. This left her feeling vulnerable and anxious, feelings she was not accustomed to. She knew she would need time to learn to trust him again. But sometimes, for example when she was lying in bed just before she would go to sleep, she wondered whether he would be patient enough to give her that time and she prayed that he would. She knew she loved him and right then she couldn't imagine ever loving anyone as much as him. In those moments though she also wondered how things would go on between them. She was steadily recovering and soon she would run out of money to pay the rent for the cottage. She had never meant to stay so long. The plan was to die here and leave her parents enough money to transfer her body back to Germany and pay for the funeral. Since it now seemed she would survive she needed to think about returning to Germany. Would he consider following her? Would he want to live with her? Would they get along sharing their lives when routine and everyday problems started to set in?

She knew that at some point she would have to discuss this with him but she was not looking forward to it. She had no idea whatsoever how he would react and that also bothered her.

Time passed quickly and soon it was early October. As the days were growing noticeably shorter, the winds had picked up and the rains had become more frequent. The storms would soon come and then they would have to spent a lot more time inside. She knew her father wouldn't like being shut up like this. He was very much the active type and would quickly become bored. He would start getting on her mother's nerves with his restlessness and that would result in arguments. Sophie hated it when her parents argued.

Severus knew nothing of these thoughts and enjoyed every minute they spent together. He was happy and did not want to think beyond the moment. It was strange enough to feel happy and he didn't think his mind could take many more new developments at the moment, let alone his heart. Sometimes when he lay awake at nights, he searched his feelings for Sophie and allowed them to rise like the tide inside him. But only to a certain point. Then he became scared and he shut them away again. He wasn't sure what he was scared of but the magnitude of the feelings inside him, how they seemed to take over his entire being and seemingly completely changed the person he thought he knew himself to be, made him uncomfortable and unwilling to dive deeper. And then there still was Lily of course. Was he cheating on her memory? Was he obliged to still love her, or had he paid off his debt to her and was free? Did he want to let go of her? He found no answers to these nightly musings. But in the daylight, when she was with him, he never wondered.

One afternoon on particularly dull day, Sophie grew so restless and bored that she put on her wellies and her waterproof hiking jacket to brave the winds and rain outside and walk up to Severus's cottage. He was in his potions lab but his wards alerted him to her approach. He quickly put a stasis charm on his bubbling cauldron and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. When Sophie entered through the back doors that opened up to the gardens, he had two steaming mugs of tea ready for them on the counter but went into the living room without them. It was difficult to always remember she couldn't know about his powers and he would have a hard time explaining odd things to her.

"Hello Sam. Sorry to barge in on you like that. Am I disturbing anything?"

"No." He smiled as he bent down to kiss her Hello.

"Tea?"

"Uhm… yes please."

He frowned as he noticed her nervousness. How long would it take her to get to the point of her visit? He was sure there was something that was bothering her.

He returned into the living room with their teas and she didn't seem to notice how quickly he had returned. She clearly was very preoccupied. He would try and make it easier for her.

"So, what did you come here to tell me?"

"Huh?" She looked up guiltily from her mug.

"What makes you think I have something to tell you?"

His eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he turned to his tea with this arrogant and very superior little smile.

"Yes, ok. I… uhm… we need to talk."

He hated such sentences. Usually they never brought good tidings and he felt anxiety rise within him.

"What would you like to discuss?" He asked with a slight edge in his voice.

"Well, I am … I am doing much better now …"

She had spent a long time last night trying to think up the right words or come up with the right strategy but had failed miserably. So she had decided to just get it over with and hope the right words would come to her when she needed them. And she needed them now. Her eyes were searching the room as if she could see them in the fireplace, on the bookshelf or the ceiling.

"I… well, I think it is time I thought about how my live will go on from here...You know I have a job in Germany… and I have friends and family there…."

She wanted to leave? Now? It had been going so well, or at least he had thought that it had been going well, and she wanted to leave him?

"Are you saying you want to leave here?" He had said this a little more sharply then intended but he could feel his anger rising as well as the all too familiar feelings of disappointment and betrayal.

She looked at him uncertainly.

"No,... I mean…" she saw the anger in his eyes. Oh, this was all going horribly wrong. He probably thought she wanted to leave him. Right, she was not going to let this end in a fight. She needed to reassure him of her feelings. So retreat was no option, she had to openly confront his insecurity.

"Listen, Sam, I meant everything I said to you and I still feel the same way, if anything my feelings for you have become stronger."

"Is that so?" The anger had not disappeared. There was suspicion and disbelief written all over him.

"Yes, that is so. But you don't believe me, do you? You think… what do you think? That I was just here to have a little fun and that was that?"

"I do not fathom to understand the workings of the female mind. I stopped trying a long time ago."

Was that a hint? Had he once had someone else in his life that had hurt him? It would explain some of his behaviour.

"I do not want our relationship to end. And I mean that. That's why I'm here. I want to discuss with you how we can continue this, how we can find a way to make this work. I can't stay here. Surely you will see that?"

"Oh really? Why can't you? What's so important in Germany that you wouldn't leave it? I think if you did feel all the things you say you do, you wouldn't think twice about it."

Right, this was going all the wrong way.

"Sam, please, I don't mean to hurt you or anything. I want that we find a way to lead a life together. And that means discussing our options and our wishes for the future."

"I can't see why that means you have to leave!"

"I doesn't! Don't you understand? I came to talk! I want us to make a decision together because I do not find my situation is satisfactory at the moment. Would you rather I did not talk about things on my mind and problems that bother me? I thought that's what relationships are all about, at least that's what they are about for me. If you see it differently and all you want is some mindless doll that is there for you to do with as you please and not have a life of her own then I think I might be the wrong person for you."

She had talked herself into a fury. He looked at her in astonishment and with a new sense of admiration. She looked so beautiful with her slightly flushed face and her eyes flashing with anger. He did adore her. And she was right. He did want her to tell him what bothered her. But if he kept reacting like a spoiled child that had it's toy taken from it every time something uncomfortable came up, she would stop confiding in him and he would never know what was truly going in inside her. A sure way to lose her. He looked down at his hands that were still holding his mug.

"You are right of course. We need to talk about this. I … I just thought you liked it here. I thought you were happy here."

"I am, but my life is more than morning walks and afternoon teas. I would like to work again, I would like to see my friends again and introduce you to them. I would like you to see my … my life, my world in Germany."

"You want me to come?"

"Of course I do. I mean, you once said you have no family here. And, well I'm not sure, but if you have your own trade, couldn't you then work from anywhere?"

He thought about that. She wanted him with her? In Germany? She really did…

"I… yes, I suppose I could. Many of my ingredients I grow myself or I buy them by ow… I mean I order them. So yes, I guess I could."

"Would you like to? I mean, can you imagine living in Germany with me?" She looked at him hopefully. It really did seem to mean a lot to her. And he did want to be around her so desperately.

"I ...I indeed have nothing that keeps me here. Are you sure you want this though? It is a big step to ask me to leave everything here to go with you."

"I know… but it's all I want. I have been thinking about it a lot. And I found I cannot imagine a life without you anymore. So you see, you will have to come with me. There is no other way, really." She smiled at him sweetly and he felt his insides melt. What did it really matter to him where he put down his head as long as it was close to her?

They spent the rest of the day making plans and working out their future living arrangements. At the end of the evening Sophie went back to her cottage feeling elated and relieved. They had managed to work through this. She felt like they had taken a huge step in their relationship and she was looking forward to their life together in Germany.


	26. Chapter 26

Two weeks later they had arrived in Sophie's home village. It was a small and very remote place in the Black Forest. Not high up, more in a sheltered valley that was surrounded by hills on two sides with magnificent woods that gave it the look of a green cradle. The village itself had about 1.500 inhabitants and Sophie's parents house was right on the edge with the garden bordering the trees of the forest. It was a great welcome by family and friends and for a while Severus had the feeling they had barely said two words to each other, so busy was she answering questions and accepting congratulations for her recovery. But they had already agreed before they had arrived that Sophie would ask her parents permission to move into her grandparents old house. Her parents had been delighted. It was just around the curve of her parents street up on a little hill where it stood on it's own. The tenants who had rented it before Sophie had fallen ill, had terminated the rental agreement because they had bought a house of their own, so it had been empty all through Sophie's recovery. And now she felt it was time to fill it with life. She showed it to Severus closely monitoring his reactions. Of course it was hard to tell whether he liked it or not. She was used to his poker face by now. Still, she thought she had detected a gleam in his eyes as he was surveying what would from now on be his home and she very pleased when he said "Yes, this will do." Coming from him it was high praise and she beamed at him happily. Some work had to be done on the place though. Sophie wanted to change the look of the 50's building inside to give it a more British feel so Severus would find it easier to feel at home. She laid out her plans to him after their inspection of the property.

"There are some things that will still have to be fixed up though. Are you ready for my plans?"she asked, about as bouncy as a child on the way to a fun fair.

"Your plans?"

"Well, they are just a few ideas… everything is entirely negotiable."

"I am glad to hear it," he said sternly although she could see the slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Right, shall I start from bottom to top then? I would like the main kitchen to be in the cellar."

"The cellar?"

"Yes! There had always been a second kitchen down there and because it was bigger than the little one on the ground floor it was always used for preparing the food on birthdays and christmas and such. And naturally that always meant that the party moved down here when my grandma and my aunts and mother came down to cook. Don't ask me why but the greatest fun we always had was in this cellar kitchen. And I want it to be like that again."

He looked at her doubtfully. His idea of a nice dining area did not include a small window and a fireproof iron door leading on into the food storage and heater room behind the cellar kitchen.

"Don't look like that! Trust me! This is going to be great! We will turn it into a cosy room where we have enough space to welcome friends and cook with them and have a good time. There really isn't enough room for that upstairs."

He smiled. She was so enthusiastic about it all. He knew then he would just say yes to whatever she wanted and make sure it would be just like that.

She laid out to him how she wanted the ground floor to look. Upon entering from the street you would come into a narrow passage off of which there would be a staircase leading to the next level to the immediate right, one door to the bathroom on the ground floor right after the stairs, one door leading into a small dining room straight ahead and one door to the left that led into the first half of the big sitting room. The ground floor bathroom needed a redecoration as it still sported a horrible 70's flower pattern in lilac and rose. Severus shook with disgust upon seeing that. The small dining room had a door to the right which led into a very small kitchen. Sophie wanted this dining room and the small kitchen to be a sort of breakfast and welcome area. To the left of the dining room was the second half of the sitting room. It was nice and airy with two double windows to the front of the house. The right hand side of this big room was to have a fireplace in the outer right wall. It was to be surrounded by bookshelves and equipped a three seater couch and two armchairs. He could see this was going to become his favourite place. The left hand side was to have another couch to the far left wall and a tv set that was to act as a sort of separation between the rooms. Sophie said their computers could go there too and he was trying hard to come up with a credible explanation of why he did not own one. The door out of the left side led back into the passage to the front door.

Upstairs had three more rooms, one of which was to become their bedroom, one a study and one a guest room. Severus did not tell her he didn't think they needed a guest room. He had no intention whatsoever to encourage anyone to stay overnight but he felt that could still be addressed when the time came. The upstairs bathroom also needed a re-decoration. In addition all rooms in the house required new floors and new windows.

"I still have some money left over and we can have someone come in to do the windows. My dad can show us how to do the floors and then we start painting the walls." Still bemused by her excitement he answered

"I have enough money to have it all done. You should concentrate on yourself now. It will take some time to get back into a work routine again and I don't want you exhausting yourself by working and renovating."

"Oh, but that's all right. We can do loads on the weekends and there is really no reason to spend money on things we are perfectly capable of doing ourselves."

"Nonsense. You get back into your job. After all that is what you dragged me here for. Leave the house to me. I insist."

She did not put up much of a fight and he was pleased with that. It would give him the chance to add some extras to the house without her knowing.

Unknown to them a strange rumor had started spreading in the Ministry of Magic around the same time. At first Harry Potter did not pay much heed to it. In his youth rumors had caused him a lot of pain and anger and so he had neglected to learn that rumors sometimes could hold an element of truth. He would soon come to regret that.

Oblivious to the subtle signs of rising danger around him, he came home from his office job at the Ministry one late November evening. Ginny was preparing dinner in the kitchen and he found his children in the sitting room listening to the wizard wireless network while each of them was whiling away the time until they would be called to the table by their mother. Lily was playing with her magic doll, and Albus was playing with his childrens' potions kit. James was at Hogwarts and Harry was receiving updates by Neville on an almost daily basis.

The two present hardly looked up when he entered but he was used to that. He stood in the doorframe and, like everytime when he looked at his children, marvelled at how lucky he was.

But so little reaction really wouldn't do. He went inside and tickled Lily till she squealed in delight. Then he sat down on the couch and tried to get some words out of his younger son. He had always been more shy and withdrawn then James, who had a very outgoing personality that reminded him strongly of his uncles Fred and George.

"What you're up to, Albus?"

He received no reaction and since Albus's back was turned on him, he could not make out the look of intense concentration on his son's face. But he knew better than to disturb him when he held potions ingredients in his hands, so he waited until those had been carefully laid on the table to address him again:

"Albus, hello? Are you still on this planet or have you reached potions nirvana yet?"

He heard an exasperated sigh.

"Daaaad! Nirvana is the highest level of human development in the Hindu religion. I was not aware I had converted to any religion."

Harry couldn't help but smile. Albus love for knowledge and books was something that strongly reminded him of Hermione. Did any of his children resemble him in any way?

"Alright, alright. But tell me what you're up to there. It sure does smell foul."

"A potion is not required to smell pleasantly, as long as it fulfils it's magical purpose." Albus continued lecturing. Harry had difficulties to stifle his laughter.

"I see…" he managed with a very serious tone.

"I was given this recipe as a task. To see if I could manage to brew it."

"By whom?" Harry said frowning slightly.

"Daaaaad! Don't you remember? I told you I found a potions community online. I'm in an experimental potions chat group."

His children had grown up with knowing about muggle technologies. Harry had deemed it important that they should understand both worlds. So together with Rose, Hermione's and Ron's daughter, they had learned to use a computer and the internet. For Albus and Rose it had been a revelation to find such vast amounts of knowledge at their immediate disposal. For James it had been interesting until his parents discovered that he was mainly playing shooter games. That had been the end of his exchange with the virtual world. Albus had at some point found other wizards who used a separate section of the internet, much like the darknet but protected by electricity compatible magic, which other wizards and witches used to communicate in a more anonymous way. Harry had not seen any danger in that, having read some of his son's exchanges with other potioneers. So he didn't think it strange but was more impressed that his son had been set such a task.

"Oh, who was it then? Potionswiz-art53? Or Beetleays17?"

"No, it's some guy here in England. He is my age and we are trading recipes, only this one he found in an old book of his grandma's and he can't get it right."

"What's it supposed to do?"

"It's supposed to recognise magical afflictions and indicate their source. That is to say if you administer it to someone whom you know to be suffering from some form of magic, be it an attack or an illness, this potion will indicate what it is."

"Wow, that does sound highly advanced!"

"Hmmm...the recipe is easy enough. I mean I had all the ingredients in my potions kit. I think the tricky bit is the preparation. Getting the stirring and the heat exactly right."

Harry thought of his own potions lessons back in his school days and how often Neville had melted cauldrons because he had never kept to Snape's instructions. Snape. Harry almost laughed at the thought of him meeting Albus and finding him fascinated with potions. He would never believe a Potter to be capable of that. But then again, if Snape knew the boy was a Potter, he in his prejudiced ways would probably be the only person on this planet who would manage to totally discourage the boys interest in Potions simply by being the great git he always had been when faced with Harry. Albus' looks resembled Harry's very much. He had the same black hair and the same green eyes. His only child with his mother's eyes. That had been the reason he had named him Albus Severus Potter. Snape would get such a fit knowing he had named his son after him!

"Dad, are you alright?" Lily had come and placed a hand on his knee. It shook him out of his revery.

"Yes, little one. 'Course I am." He smiled and headed for the kitchen.

They spent an enjoyable evening eating Ginny's superb dinner and then the kids went upstairs to get ready for bed. Harry went after them to tuck them in. Even though they were beyond that age already he could not stop this little ritual. When James was home he even did it with him. And James, in spite of all his teenage behaviour during the day, never refused him and always sank into Harry's hug before slipping under the covers. Harry had resolved from the first day that his children would receive all the love and care he had never had as a child. A few hours later he and Ginny retired as well. Sleep came quickly, but it was to be the last night of undisturbed slumber in a long while.


	27. Chapter 27

Next morning was the usual chaos of getting the kids ready for primary school without spilling anything down the front of his robes and though it was somewhat less taxing without James there, it was still an achievement thought Harry, when he dropped his two youngest off. He had been busy writing up reports on some falsely accused witch, who had allegedly been seen performing a series of dark rituals that had resulted in another magical family's garden gnomes growing to an enormous size. Why people thought a simple inflation spell had anything to do with the dark arts, he did not know. It just went to show for him how thin skinned people still were when it came to this matter and how much dislike there could be between neighbours.

For lunch Harry and Ron had planned to meet up with Hermione and go to a nearby Muggle place which was supposed to offer very healthy food at decent prices. Since Ron had gained a few pounds, Hermione had decided that he needed to mind his eating habits and had insisted Harry share their plans, even though he was still as skinny as he had always been.

He was just about to leave when the fire place in the Auror's open plan office turned green and Ginny's head appeared.

'Can anyone get my husband to the fire, please? This is urgent… please!'

Harry had heard Ginny's voice and came over to the fireplace at once.

'Ginny, what's the matter?' He said smiling slightly at seeing her so flustered. He thought it might have to do with Ginny's Mum who had recently been a little too enthusiastic about George's upcoming wedding. After years of mourning and some very narrow escapes of death through the use of illegal narcotic substances, he had finally managed to find himself a nice witch who was willing to take him with all his baggage. His mother was over the moon and subsequently driving everyone mad because she wanted everything to be just perfect.

'Is your mum torturing you with new ideas for the wedding again?'

'Harry, something is wrong with Albus. You have to come home straight away. I could only just stop the muggles from calling the ambulance but I think he really needs to be taken to St. Mungo's.'

'Albus? Why what happened?'

'Can you please just come home?'

There was something so panicky and shrill in Ginny's voice that he did not think twice. He had never seen her so out of sorts before. If she was reacting like this, it was serious. He straightened and turned to the nearest Auror.

'Periwinkle, can you inform Kingsley that I had to leave early due to a family crisis?'

'Sure, mate.'

And while he was saying 'Cheers' to Periwinkle he had already grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the green flames.

At home he stepped out of their fireplace and shouted for Ginny. He heard her calling from upstairs and found her in Albus rooms. The boy was lying quietly in his bed and did not stir.

'What's wrong with him?'

'I don't know!'

'Well, what happened?'

Ginny was on the edge of tears. Harry was really at a loss. He had never seen her behave like this before.

'Ginny, what is going on? Please, calm down, ok? You need to tell me now exactly what happened, alright?'

Ginny heaved a deep sigh and squared her shoulders. That was more like it. She moved a little away from him and began.

'I was out doing the shopping when I got a call on that mobile thingy that you gave us. When I had finally managed to make it work it was Albus' school. They said he had collapsed in class and was now with the school nurse. I was to come and pick him up. I went there right away and when they took me to see him he was lying on the couch and shaking uncontrollably. They said they would call the ambulance but I said I was faster taking him to the hospital. So they let me go. He was all clammy and sweaty and he didn't answer me. When we came back I laid him down on his bed and I was just going to go downstairs to get you when he suddenly sat bolt upright and heaved for air as if he couldn't breath. Then he collapsed again and screamed so horribly as if he was under the cruciatus,' here Ginny began to cry in earnest, 'Harry, it was horrible, I didn't know what to do. And the all of a sudden he just stopped and didn't move anymore at all.'

Harry had grown paler and paler during Ginny's recount of the morning. He left the room and rushed down to the fireplace, hoping that Hermione had not yet left her ward. It took a good ten minutes for the nurse witch to find her and bring her to the flames and when she spoke to him he could hear Ron in the background. She didn't hesitate though and came through immediately. After a first scan she was frowning deeply when she turned to Harry and Ginny.

'He seems to be in a sort of stasis. I can read his life signs but his brain doesn't seem to be working. I want to take him to the hospital. And Ginny, I want you with me. I want to discuss this with some colleagues and and get their opinion and your story.'

They did not argue and within a quarter of the hour Albus had been relocated to St. Mungo's while Hermione had made calls throughout the country to bring together the most distinguished healers and present the case to them. What Hermione hadn't liked to tell Harry and Ginny was that she had never come upon anything like this before. It was very much like the descriptions of a certain Coma that muggle doctors had come across. But she found a faint hint of magic in this, that she could not properly locate. And as long as they didn't know what kind of magic was involved any attempts to use medical spells or potions on him could prove fatal.

Time was flying and Christmas was approaching fast. The village where Severus had chosen to make his new home was covered in snow. Though not as deep as he was used to from his days at Hogwarts, he enjoyed the crisp air anyway. The winters on the Cornish Coast had mainly been damp and stormy. There had never been snow.

He was making good progress with the redecoration of the house. Sophie had indeed left the renovation to him. She had tried to argue once or twice but faced with his sternest teacher face she had abandoned her attempts to change his mind. He noticed with satisfaction that he still had it in him. And it had indeed given him the chance to make some alterations of his own design to the house. He had put protection spells on the house from the inside and outside, installed a few rather witty charms creations that were to keep of muggle burglars and had added an extra, magically hidden room in the cellar in which he hid some of his most potent and dangerous potions.

Outside in the back garden was a garage with an added workroom and a storage room without a window to keep vegetables fresh. It had no floor, just hard stamped earth for a ground, and it was divided from the workroom by a wooden door. He decided to add another room underneath the storage room and make that his laboratory. It was remote enough from the house not to attract attention, even if something should explode, yet close enough to let him get to the house quickly should something be the matter. He installed a charm that would alert him to Sophie or any one else crossing the yard and walking in the direction of the workrooms so he would be able to come out of his lab quickly and pretend he was doing some work in the room above. The workroom held a workbench, lots of gardening tools and carpentry tools, since Sophie's grandfather had been a carpenter.

For the time being they both lived with her parents in the next house down the street. They had agreed that Sophie would sleep in her old room up under the roof. And Severus took up a guest room in the cellar. He didn't mind. He knew Sophie needed more time to recover and he didn't feel comfortable at the thought of sharing a bed with her when her parents slept in the very same house.

Sophie didn't seem to mind either. She had started to work again. In November it had only been for four hours a day but since December had started she was working normal hours again and she was knackered every time she came home in the late afternoons. He could see it was straining her still limited resources but she would not be persuaded to shorten her work time again. She wanted to stay on top of things and show that she was willing to do her bit again.

Severus planed to have the house ready on Christmas eve. That was when presents were exchanged in Germany and he wanted the house to be his present to her. Sophie had managed to paint a picture for him during some of their conversations in the little moments of intimacy they could snatch out of their busy days. A picture of homely bliss and comfortable contentment as he had never known it before. At first he had been reluctant to believe in it. But she had been so persistent and so good in describing to him: how they would wake up together and have sunday morning breakfasts, how they would cook together in the downstairs kitchen and sit by the fire to read together. In the end he hadn't been able to resist those visions any longer. He wanted it to be just like that. The only thing he hadn't liked was how often Sophie had been talking about the dog. That was something he had only learned about her when they had arrived here. Down in the village was a family who owned a pack of Huskies. Severus thought he could have accepted something small. Maybe a pug or a poodle. But a Husky? Unfortunately Sophie had been taking care of one of the dogs for the last five years and was deeply attached to it. She had always wanted to buy it off the owners and have it live with her, only that she had been staying in an apartment where animals were not allowed. So now that she was going to live in a house she had set her mind on having the dog live with them. Severus had met that beast before. Her name was Lela and she was a good bit smaller than that bloody mutt Black or that filthy werewolf Lupin had been. But she had fangs all the same and the grey fur did nothing to endear her to him. He had not dared to confess to Sophie that he was scared of dogs but he also had not managed to tell her flat out that he did not want the dog around. Not after having witnessed their reunion upon Sophie's return. The dog had been besides itself. It had been held on a lead by its owner and had jumped into it with all it's might upon seeing Sophie. He had thought it was going to attack her. He was still fumbling around for his wand thinking furiously how he could explain it if he stunned the beast when the owner let go of the lead and the dog launched itself at Sophie. He was about to cry out but then saw how Sophie was laughing and hugging her and sinking to the floor with her. The dog was jumping around her like crazy, whining and howling for all it was worth. Finally it threw itself on the floor before her and presented it's belly to be stroked and cuddled which Sophie did under tears. He could see this dog meant a lot to her. So he really didn't have the heart to say no. Instead he tried to point out that the dog meant a lot of work, was shedding his coat a lot and would leave her hairs all over the place. That it would stink and make a mess in the house. Sophie was not impressed. And after having been for walks with them and seeing how well Sophie managed to handle her he really was running out of arguments against it. Sophie knew that and was pestering him any given opportunity about it.

In the evenings when he lay in bed, exhausted from the renovation and excited about the prospect of sharing his live with Sophie, he found himself feeling very content. On some nights, when he was sure he would quickly drift off to sleep and therefore would have forgotten the next morning just what he had thought before he fell asleep, he even allowed himself to feel happy.


	28. Chapter 28

It had now been almost four weeks since Albus had fallen into Coma. And still they had not been able to find the reason why his brain had shut down. Harry was aware that Ginny was trying her hardest to cope in front of Lily and him but he knew it every time she had cried secretly. He had asked for a reduction of his working hours so he could spend more time at his sons bedside. He couldn't bare leaving him but he also found it hard to just sit there and stare at him. He felt helpless and the pain of seeing his child in this state nearly tore him apart.

Hermione and the other healers had tried everything they could think of. All diagnostic spells had however come up with the same result: there was a magical source that could not be properly located. If Hermione had to describe it, she would say it was moving and changing all the time, making it impossible to remove simply because they could not get a hold on it. By the time they located it and had decided on a counter spell, it morphed into something different and they had to decide on a new spell only to discover it had then changed its location. She was frustrated beyond belief. She couldn't understand how it worked. And even though they had gone over it a thousand times, had searched the school's classroom where Albus had been before he collapsed, had searched his room for any indication, they could not make out how he had come into contact with this magic.

"I … I really don't know what more to do, Harry," she said one evening just two nights before Christmas.

Harry had come in after he had collected James from the train station returning from Hogwarts for the holidays. He was watching from a short distance as James sat white as a parchment next to his brother's bed.

"There must be something… this can't be it. We cannot give up on him."

"I certainly have no intention on giving up. I just need a new lead. A hint of some sort … let's go over it again."

"Oh what good will that do, Hermione?" Harry felt close to tears.

"This will be the first Christmas without him. It will be horrible for Lily and James. Merlin, James even saved up for some really expensive potions ingredients. Said he wanted to make up for Albus' cauldron he had blown up for fun last summer. And now…"

"Is he still so into potions? With Rose it sort of started to wear out when she had learned to read and discovered my old transfiguration books."

"No, it's still potions. Always potions. Why, even the evening before it happened he was trying a new recipe."

At this Hermione's head snapped up.

'What was that recipe? Do you remember?'

Harry noticed the starting excitement in her voice.

'It was nothing dangerous. He said he was sent this recipe by one of his little potions friends online. Even said it can't be that complicated because he had all the ingredients in his kiddie potions kit,' Harry led out an exhausted breath and slumped onto a chair by the wall.

'What little potions friends online?'

'He is member of a potions forum on the wizard net. It's really quite harmless. I looked at it before I allowed him to join. They exchange potion recipes and talk about what ingredients do what. And he found a boy there of his age with whom he was exchanging messages and who asked him if he could give that recipe a try cause he hadn't succeeded.'

'Do you still have the recipe?'

'No, Hermione I told you it's harmless.'

'Maybe… but Harry, if we have no other leads we might as well have a look at this until we do. It's better than sitting around at any rate. And with potions you can really never know. Even ingredients from a kiddie set can have dangerous effects if handled the wrong way.'

At last Harry gave in and went home to search Albus room for the missing recipe. He found it on his son's desk. Albus had printed it out and had neatly scribbled suggestions into the margins of the lines and on the sides of the recipe. He smiled thinking it was maybe a sign of great interest in the subject if you tried to change recipes and experiment around with things all the time. Snape left his thoughts in the half-blood princes book. They had been more extensive and didn't have the hesitant and suggesting tone that Albus' had, nor did they have so many question marks. But then Albus could not be compared with the brooding youth that had been Snape. He was neither as interested in the dark arts nor so desperate to earn anybody recognition. At least Harry hoped so.

When he had returned to St Mungo's, Hermione spend a long time gazing at the recipe and decided to make the potion herself. She also contacted the Potions master of the hospital as well as her old potions professor with whom she had studied during her training as a healer.

She promised she would let Harry know immediately if she found something useful. Once again all Harry could do was wait.

In Germany Severus was meanwhile putting the finishing touches on the sitting room. He had transported all Sophie's books to their new home and all other belongings that had still been in her rental apartment.

The house looked and felt better than he had dared to hope. He really did think he could be happy here. And he had prepared a huge surprise for Sophie. She wouldn't know what hit her, he was thinking with glee. He had not had any more seizures and felt totally relaxed. The only thing that kept creeping up in the back of his mind was that he still hadn't told her the truth about himself. Whenever that voice became too loud he would always shut it up by telling himself it wasn't the right time yet and he would just wait for the right moment. Surely he would know when it presented itself and then he would definitely tell her.


	29. Chapter 29

After another almost sleepless night Harry dragged himself to the ward in which his son was lying. He sought out Hermione's office after he had seen him and found her with her head on a book and fast asleep at her desk. He gently woke her.

'Hermione...Hermione?'

She gave a sleepy grunt and raised her head.

'Is it morning already?'

'Jup. Have you spent all night here?'

'Well, I had things to do, didn't I?'

Harry felt bad for seeing how she wore herself out trying to help little Albus, while all he could do was to sit on a chair and stare at his lifeless form.

'Listen, don't you think you should go home and rest?'

'What? Nooo! No way. I think we might be onto something here.'

She had said that several times in the last few weeks but it had never amounted to anything.

'Hermione, when was the last time you spent an afternoon with Rose and Ron?'

She blushed slightly.

'It's alright. Rose understands. She wants me to help Albus. You know how fond she is of him. He is like a brother to her.'

He could see that he had hit a nerve in spite of what she was saying but she did not give him a chance to take advantage of that.

'But never mind that now. As I was saying, there is something here. I'm not quite sure yet what, but I will find out.'

'What do you mean?'

'That potion that Albus was brewing. I made it yesterday, remember? But I really don't know what it's supposed to do.'

'Albus said it was to reveal a magically caused infliction or illness.'

'Well, it doesn't. I have checked it, together with my old potions master from the healer training, and we are absolutely puzzled. I cannot even determine whether this potion is poisonous or not. All the ingredients are harmless enough, but even harmless ingredients can cause a lot of damage when mixed in certain ways. So we tried to mix an antidote, you know, just in case it should work on Albus. We followed the standard procedure, you know, according to Golpalott's Third Law…'

'Ahhh, I've heard of that. What was that again?' said Harry, glad there was something that Hermione said which seemed vaguely familiar for once.

Hermione merely looked exasperated.

'Honestly, Harry, how did you ever manage your NEWTs? Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote to a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each ingredient used. So I tried to separate the different ingredients again. I mean, I knew what I had put in it, obviously, but it is just good practise to do when I used the Specialis revelio-spell the ingredients just wouldn't separate. That led me to thinking that maybe one or more of the components have, in the process, formed a new component, which is not distinguishable anymore... due to reasons I cannot understand...'

That last bit was added in a much more subdued way and with her eyes cast down to her book.

'What did your potions master say?'

'He was just as much at a loss as I was. Kept saying that the arts of potions making is an ever evolving science which one can never completely learn to understand. Fat lot of help that was.'

Harry had the feeling her potions master might have slipped a degree or two in Hermione's regard.

'So… is there anybody else we can ask?'

'Well, no. He is supposed to be one of the best potions master of our country and his speciality is unusual potions or potions gone wrong… so not much luck there.'

Harry was thinking hard. If it really had something to do with this potions surely there was going to be a way?

'What about that bloke that was here in the summer? The one whos wife was ill. Didn't you say he was the best potions master Britain has?'

'Well yes. Sam Ashworth. But he leads a very secluded life. Nobody knows where exactly he lives. Actually nobody has ever seen him before. Never came to any Award ceremonies, Never published in any potions magazines…'

'How do they make out he is so good then?'

'Well, it's simply the quality of his brews, isn't it? You can tell he really knows his stuff. Never a bad batch in all the time we ordered from him. Never heard of any mistakes or delivery's past the sell by date. Even the most difficult things he delivers within the minimum amount of time and in best quality. Nothing ever seems too hard for him. I don't know how he does it really.'

'Well, couldn't we ask him? I mean, surely he would help us? Especially since you helped his wife.'

'I don't know. We could try and ask him. Send an owl. But I don't think we'd be very lucky. As I said. He never answers letters that don't contain an order for a potion. And when he answers it is just to send the potion and ask a price in return. And if you fail to pay he will never deliver to you again. No matter if you need it badly or not. Heard that one or two people died because he refused to deliver to them.'

Harry looked down at his hands. He wouldn't let his son suffer just because some eccentric old fool was playing the diva.

Quietly, so that it was barely audible, he said 'We could send an owl and follow it.'

He heard Hermione's gasp. He knew what would follow now.

'Harry, it is illegal to follow a post owl. You know that. And apart from that it is almost impossible to follow them. The have their own magic.'

'Yes, but the Aurors have a tracing spell. We use it to trace communication of wanted criminals.'

'It would be even more illegal to use that! Harry, you could lose your job! Not to mention ending up in Azkaban.'

'I know, I know, but Hermione, this is about Albus! And if this bloke is only going to be convinced if I drag him here by the back of his robes, I'm going to do just that! I don't care what happens after that, as long as Albus lives.'

Hermione gave him a long lock until the door to her office opened and Ron came in.

'Hi,' noticing the atmosphere in the room he said with a little uncertainty '...everything OK?'

He received no answer. Instead Hermione resumed her thoughtful gazing at Harry.

'You will do it anyway, right? Whether I help you or not, you will do it.'

Harry just silently nodded.

'Oh Harry, you really haven't changed,' she said with some degree of exasperation.

'Do what?' asked Ron.

'Harry is planning to land himself in Azkaban. And I'm going to help him.' Hermione said as she purposefully walked around her room to compose a potions order.

'What? What d'you mean?'

Harry quickly explained their theory.

'Well, we should do it on Christmas Eve then. People generally leave the office by noon so we will have free reign of the charts and maps room.'

'No Ron.'

'What d'you mean "no"?'

'I can't drag you into this. If they find out I'm going to lose my job and if they realise Hermione helped me you two will be in enough trouble as it is.'

'Harry, we have been there before.'

'Yes, but this is different. You have a family now...and children to look after.'

'And you don't?'

'Well, yes, I do and that is one more reason I can't have you help. If they catch me you'll have to take care of Ginny and the kids.'

'Rubbish, Harry, and besides: there's lots more Weasleys who can take over. Don't be stupid, mate. We're in it with you and nobody would believe us anyway if we'd say we had nothing to do with it. We have a track record of ending up in trouble with you.'

'He is right, Harry. And you wouldn't know what to ask Ashworth anyway. So I will have to come along anyway.'

'I will just bring him here.'

'Maybe we can solve it just by asking him. I think we should try that before you kidnap him. What's the charts and maps room, anyway?'

'The spell on the owl doesn't work like a normal tracking spell. It doesn't take you to where the bird is. It's to do with the owls own magic. A normal tracking spell cannot attach itself to them. So you would have to put it on the letter, but lots of criminals check their mail for unfriendly spells as soon as they get them so they would find the tracking spell right away and either disappear or remove it which can cause serious problems if you try to apparate in that moment. The only option is this special tracking on the owl that does not create a lead but only shows the owls progress on the special charts and maps in the aurors' charts and maps room. You have to follow the owls journey until it turns around and heads back. Then you have found the place of delivery.'

'Sounds a bit like the Marauders' Map.'

'Yeah, that's where they took the idea from. And that's why all owls now have been given identity numbers. Still I think you should not be too involved.'

Harry knew he was not going to convince them. He did try for a little longer but gave up when Hermione stepped out of her office to check on some patient.

Christmas Eve would be a good time to try the spell. Ron was right. The other Aurors would be home early to prepare for Christmas and the emergency staff was going to be busy celebrating with some of the other departments' emergency staff. Nobody expected trouble, so they would beall rather relaxed. He discussed the detailed plans with Ron and then went home to Ginny to inform her of his plans and talk through what would happen if he got caught. In spite of his rising anxiety, Christmas Eve couldn't come soon enough for him.

Severus had finally finished decorating the house, something he never thought he would ever do, and returned to Sophie's parents house to have a shower before she came home from work. She would love what he'd done. He knew that.

He heard her coming through the front door upstairs and hurried to get back to his bedroom to change. He was just turning to his small wardrobe with his back to the door to take a fresh shirt out when the door to his room opened.

'Sam, guess…'

Sophie did not finish the sentence. He had whipped around at the sound of her voice and now looked into her face. She stood open mouthed in horror staring at his bare back.

He quickly pulled his shirt on turning away from her so he wouldn't have to see her reaction.

'What is it?' he tried to say as calmly as possible, though anger was threatening to rise like lava within him.

'Sam, what's happened to your back?'

'Nothing. What is it? What did you want me to guess?'

He finally turned around and his angry eyes met hers. He immediately regretted his reaction. She was staring back at him even more angrily.

'Nothing? NOTHING? Your back looks like somebody stripped the skin of it and left it to heal on its own and you just say nothing? I have never asked you about your past, Sam Ashworth, and always stuck to the promise I gave you but this is going too far. We are married! I want you to answer me now as I have a right to know as your wife: what happened to your back?'

He really did not want a fight with her. Not so shortly before all his dreams where due to come true. The fight left him and he sank down on his guest bed and looked solemnly up into her face.

'I ...I once crossed someone I shouldn't have crossed and he punished me.'

'How?'

'You really want all the bloody details?'

She took a long breath and let it out slowly as she sat down next to him.

'Somebody hurt you. Somebody hurt the man I love. Don't you think you would want to know if somebody had hurt me?'

'It's a long time ago, Sophie. I fell in with the wrong sort of people and got caught up in things which I then couldn't stop anymore. I left those people and I left everything that had to do with it. I wanted to get away as far as I could.'

'Are they after you?'

'No. They...most of them will be dead. Or imprisoned. I just don't want to think back to that time in my life. I'm not proud of what I've done. But I don't ever want to go back. Not even in my thoughts or memories. Do you understand that?'

She took a moment to gaze into his deep dark eyes and the nodded silently. They sat side by side in complete stillness until she wrapped her arms around him to hug him. It felt like a release to him. He gave into her hug letting it engulf him in her love and care while savouring the feeling of her warm body next to him.

'Does it hurt?' she whispered into his ear.

'No. No, it doesn't. As I said, it was a long time ago.'

'Has it anything to do with the scar on your neck?'

'No. That was a snake. I told you.'

She released him and looked into his eyes. 'I still can't believe there is a poisonous snake with fangs that size.'

He chuckled.'Yes, well, next time I meet one I will make sure to take a picture for you.'

'Don't you dare.' She said hitting his arm playfully.

He laughed and pulled her down with him on the bed.


	30. Chapter 30

It was Christmas eve. Harry had been in the office early. He was too nervous to be able to sleep. He knew he was breaking the rules. And somehow it reminded him of his time at Hogwarts and all the things he did back then when he thought it was necessary. Hermione had once told him he had a bit of a saving-everybody problem...but he also knew that this was about his son, his own flesh and blood - and that this could cost him his job. It was not just school rules he would be breaking today, he was breaking the law. But he was determined. Like he had always been when he believed to be in the right. True, he had been wrong - and he still couldn't quite shake the feeling off that Sirius' death was partly his fault. But again, this was about his son and what kind of father would he be if he wasn't prepared to do everything for his child, give everything for his child, just like his parents had done for him? Steeling himself with these thoughts he spent the morning at his desk pretending to catch up on his paperwork. Ron had come in around his usual time and around noon people were finally starting to clear out. He was breathing lighter now, knowing that the time had nearly come. Hermione arrived around 12:30 and she had brought a hospital owl with her to use for the potions order. Ron went over into the charts and maps room to check it was clear and gave them the thumbs up from across the hall. In there Harry cast the spell on the bird and Hermione went to release it through a bathroom window on the same floor.

They stayed in the map room, hoping nobody would burst in and followed the birds progress across the country. Harry thought that their plan would work as long as no emergency turned up in which case the office would be flooded with aurors and the maps room would be used to coordinate the operation. Now all there was to do was wait until the bird had found its destination.

Dusk was coming early at this time of the year. Sophie would be going to church with her mother for the 4 o'clock family service. Severus had agreed with her mother that she would be bringing her to the new house afterwards and that the entire family, which included Sophie's aunt, uncle, cousin and his wife as well as Sophie's father and brother, would come together at their new home and celebrate Christmas. He knew he would create a memory with this that Sophie would never forget. And his present for her would blow her mind. He was fairly sure that this would prove to her once and for all how much he truly loved her. And when they had all gone home and he was finally alone with her, they would truly start their live as a married couple. It would be the perfect night for them. He was ready for it.

Sophie dressed very carefully. It was Christmas and that had always been the most important holiday in her family. It would also be her first Christmas with Sam and she wanted to look beautiful for him. She chose a long black dress that hugged her form snugly and had a lace covered neckline back and front. She left her hair open, she knew that was the way Sam liked it best, and put on some light makeup. She checked herself in the mirror turning this way and that considering if it was the right dress or if it wouldn't be better to choose something more daring. Finally her mother got fed up with waiting and that sort of decided it. She had picked her underwear carefully too, so whatever happened tonight, she was prepared and even if Sam should find her dress too prudent, he would definitely like what was underneath.

The church was full to the last seat, some people even had to stand in the back rows. Sophie loved Christmas services and enjoyed the hundreds of voices singing carols and saying the Lord's prayer together. She had said extra thanks for all the wonderful things that had happened to her in the past year and prayed that Sam and she would find happiness in each other. The bells were ringing throughout the village when she got into her mother's car to go home.

'You still haven't told me what we will have for Christmas dinner!'

'Wait and see.'

'Is Dad cooking? If Dad is cooking I know what we will eat.' She remembered with a smile the Christmas dinners when she was a child. Her mother had taken her and her brother to church while her father had prepared trouts with banana ketchup sauce. Sophie had loved those.

'No, your father is not on cooking duty tonight.'

'So who is?'

She only received a smile for an answer. The way from church to her parents house was not far and she was a little surprised as her mother went past it.

'Mum, you just passed our house!'

'I know, dear.'

'But I thought we were celebrating here and not at auntie's this year. '

'We are not going to your aunts.'

As her mother pulled into the next street and drove to the house on top of the hill, Sophie saw the lights on in the windows of her new home.

'No! Did he really finish it so quickly?' And she squealed in delight 'Wow, this is going to be perfect!'

She didn't wait for her mother when she had parked the car but jumped up the front stairs immediately. But nobody opened when she rang the doorbell.

'You should have waited for me. I would have told you that we will go in through the back door.'

'Why is that?' Sophie asked somewhat disappointed 'I wanted to see the fireplace. Sam wouldn't allow me to see it when it was being fitted.'

'Yes, I'm sure we will see it later. Now we will first have dinner. I'm hungry. Come on… through the back if you please.'

And she was ushered around the house by her mother til they came to the back door which was a few steps down leading into the big cellar kitchen. Sophie's mood lifted instantly again as she stepped through the door.

The room was dominated by the large solid wooden table she had chosen and which was now decorated with a silver candelabra with candles and festive holy drapings on a white narrow table runner that contrasted beautifully with the dark wood of the table beneath it.

Sam was standing by the ancient stove Sophie had wanted to keep and was putting more wood on. She looked at him in his white shirt with the black trousers, his hair loosely tied back to keep it out of the food. She stood by the door for a moment to take it all in. She felt like this was everything she had ever wanted, all of it there in this one moment. She couldn't have been more happy. It was such a simple and domestic scene but it was perfect. Without saying a word she went over to Sam and threw her arms around his neck to bury her face in his chest. She had a home and her own family now. From now on life would be good.

The others arrived shortly after Sophie and her mother, and together they sat down at the table. Sam served a delicious three course dinner: A warming pea and ham soup with a touch of mint, a perfectly roasted goose with crunchy skin and tender meat that left hardly any room for the soft and spongy chocolate cake with the liquid heart of melted chocolate inside. Sophie tried to hold Sam's hand through the dinner as often as she could, not wanting to let him go. And everytime she took it he gave her an amused smile. She knew he thought she was being silly, but she wanted him to know how happy he had made her.

She helped to serve the food and afterwards to clear the table and when they had finished their coffees, Sam stood up.

'I think it's time to go upstairs. It'll be nicer to have our port in the sitting room, the dishwasher is a bit loud.'

The others made to rise and he took Sophie's hand and led her to the door to the stairs.

'I have lit a fire in your new fireplace.'

'Our new fireplace.' that earned her a bright smile from him.

'Yes, our new fireplace. It will be nice and warm by now.'

When they had reached the top of the stairs he pushed her forward through the door into the small breakfast room.

'You go on in there, I will get some glasses for the port.' he said with a small smile.

She was too excited to see the fireplace to notice it and went straight for the door. When she opened it, a black nose came poking through and tried to open the door further.

'Nala!' the dog came through and threw itself at her legs immediately, happily wagging its tail. Sophie looked up into Sam's smiling face.

'You…' she couldn't finish when she saw how his smile spread into a wide grin.

'Merry Christmas.' he said softly.

Sophie rushed over and for the second time hugged him around the neck. Only this time she held him so tightly that he was hardly able to breath. He was laughing and held her close. When he felt her silently crying he gently pushed her away.

'It was not my intention to make you cry.'

'I know… I just… this is… Oh Sam!' she kissed him quickly then turned to the dog that was now taking a tour through the room, sniffing everybody and enjoying everybody's attention.

'Come here, girl, come on.' The dog didn't hesitate and rushed to her to be greeted appropriately with hugs and cuddles which it obviously enjoyed tremendously.

It happily followed Sophie into the sitting room which sported a beautifully decorated christmas tree and a new dog bed.

'I've put it a bit away from the fireplace, towards the outer wall so that it's not too hot for her.'

'Perfect. She can see everything from there but won't be too close to the heat. You have really thought of this. And here I was beginning to think you were scared of dogs.' She said laughing. Sam quickly looked away, not wanting her to see how close to the truth she had hit. When everybody had found a place to settle down and all drinks had been distributed, they exchanged the remaining presents from under the christmas tree.

Sam really liked his 1890's edition of Goethe's Faust and Sophie was grateful because she felt nothing could in any way be adequate compared to the gifts he had made her tonight. She felt exhilarated as if she had just come down from a roller coaster.

Sam went into the cellar to fetch another bottle of red wine when the doorbell rang. Sophie went to open it.

'Good evening. Can I help you?'

Two man were standing on the steps just below the front door. One of the man had black hair that stood up at all angles, wore glasses and had a hurried look in his other had red hair, was tall and lanky and had a large nose. She only noticed then that there was also a third person just behind them. She recognised her as the woman doctor that had treated her in that strange hospital Sam had taken her to. She could feel her heart slide down inside her. If she had come here it could only mean bad news. Why else would she be bothered to be out and about on Christmas Eve? And the hurried look in the black haired guys eyes seemed to confirm her fears.

'I remember you. You treated me in that hospital.'

The woman smiled. 'Yes, that's right.'

Sophie could not return the smile. She threw a quick look over her shoulder to see if Sam was coming back up the stairs but there was no trace of him. She needed to get rid of them. All she could see in her mind's eye now was her mother crying and Sam's devastation when they were told that the cancer was back. She would not allow that. For tonight they would be happy. No matter what.

'Look here, if you have come to talk to me it will have to wait. We are celebrating Christmas tonight and I will not disturb it by some unwelcome news. My family had to go through enough this year. They deserve a quiet and happy Christmas.'

'No, you don't understand,'started the man with the black hair,'this is important.'

'I'm sure it is but it will still have to wait.' And she made to close the door.

'Please,' said the man and put his foot on the threshold, 'please hear me out. We really need him.'

'Him?' Sophie stopped, 'what do you mean him?'

'Mr Ashworth, we need his help. My son, he is ill. And only Mr. Ashworth can help us.'

Sophie felt a huge weight lifting off of her.

'This is not about… you did not come to tell me the cancer had returned?' She was laughing. And only now did she realise how silly her assumption had been. She had not been back for any more tests. How would they know even if her cancer had returned?

'I'm so sorry. I… oh Lord forgive me. Do come in. I am really sorry. Sam is just downstairs but he will be up again in a moment. Then you can speak with him.'

She saw the relieve in the black haired man's eyes as she led them through into the sitting room and offered them seats. It was just then that Sam stepped into the room.

It took Sophie a moment to notice the shift in the atmosphere and that the room had gone quiet. When she looked up she saw everybody looking in the direction of Sam who stood staring at their guests in the door. They, in return, were staring at him.


	31. Chapter 31

For one fleeting moment Severus Snape thought he had gone mad. Here before him stood Harry bloody Potter with his two faithful sidekicks. In his living room. Chatting to his new family. How could they be here? Surely he was hallucinating. Surely. And he had almost convinced himself when Saint Potter opened his cursed mouth.

'You?!' Disbelief was etched all over his face as recognition set in.

Severus turned and swore loudly. Would he never be free of Potter's hellish offspring? Hadn't he paid enough for his sins? Why did that stupid little spawn of the devil have to show up at precisely that moment when his life for once seemed to take a turn for the better?

'Sam!' Sophie exclaimed, shocked at his use of language. While Potter rushed over to stand directly before him. He was astonished and, expecting to be attacked, took a step backwards.

'You… you are alive!'

'A shockingly accurate observation, Potter. Tell me, have you finally managed to develop some brain cells?'

Potter just stood there laughing like mad.

'You are alive! Ron, Hermione, d'you recognise him? D'you know who he is? He is alive, I can't believe it.'

Hermione had come over too and was now staring at him in awe.

'How did you… I mean… you were dead. We saw you dying… we left you there thinking you were dead. Oh my God! We left you for dead and you were still alive! Oh I'm so sorry! Oh no!' She started to cry and Ron thankfully came to take her into his arms to stifle her sobs. He was smiling at his former potions master with unchecked happiness.

'Well, that is even better. We won't need Ashworth anymore, Snape's more than able for that.'

Harry looked at him surprised and then laughed even harder.

'Ron, he is Ashworth!'

'What?' Hermione pipped up from Ron's hug.

'Yeah, don't you see it? Brilliant potions master and nobody has ever seen his face, never attended award ceremonies and all? It all makes sense now, doesn't it?'

'The pepper-up…'

'Huh?' Harry just looked at Hermione.

'The pepper-up potions. We sometimes ordered them from Ashworth when all other suppliers were out of stock. He charged a ridiculous amount. But for some reason their smell and their taste always reminded me of Mme Pomfrey and the hospital wing at Hogwarts. I should have known. I should have realised!'

'Hermione, what are you on about?'

'The pepper-up! Every potions master worth his salt tweeks his potions in some way. To make them more effective or better tasting so that they are easier to take. I should have recognised your signature in the pepper-up potion. I don't know why I never made that connection.'

'How shockingly negligent of you, Miss Granger.'

'Well, actually it's Mrs Weasley these days, Professor.'

Severus rolled his eyes.

'If you insist on details I must ask you to refrain from addressing me as "Professor", I am no longer a teacher.'

Sophie and her family were watching in silent astonishment. In her family most did not understand English and those who did had no idea what the three strangers were talking about.

Potter still gazed up at him in an almost unblinking fashion that very much reminded him of a devoted house elf. Disgusted he shook himself slightly.

'Potter, kindly stop staring at me with that stupid expression. What are you doing here?'

Without bothering to answer, Hermione turned towards Sophie.

'And this is your wife?' She said with a smile so simpering it would have made Lavender Brown proud. Severus ground his teeth while Ron guffawed.

'Snape's married? Merlin's bloody…'

'Ron!'

'Sorry 'Mione, but Snape…' he stopped mid sentence seeing the murderous look on Serverus's face. Hermione was by Sophie's side and clasped her hands.

'Oh my God, this is so wonderful. I am so happy for you! How long have you known each other. Oh I hope you don't mind me asking, it's just… this is so wonderful… that he found you… after all those years…'

'Miss Granger, would you please stop that embarrassing display and let go of my wife! Potter, why are you here?'

And as if things couldn't have become worse now Sophie decided to join in as well.

'Sam, who are these people? Why are they calling you "Professor"? What on earth is going on here?'

Severus felt his carefully constructed but fragile building called "Sam Ashworth" collapse around him. It wasn't what he wanted. He did not want to air his past here with Sophie and her family, in their new home with the beautiful fireplace and the smelly dog. He wanted these intruders gone. In one last effort, with nothings short of panic he grabbed Potter and Weasley by the necks and pushed them towards the door.

'I'm sorry Sophie, they were just about to leave!'

'No, wait! I need your help!'

'You have had more help from me than you deserved and now get out of here and don't ever come back! Do you hear me? Forget that you were here and forget that you ever saw me and just leave me alone, once and for all!'

He was almost hysterical by now as he frantically tried to push Potter out of the door.

'No, wait, Professor, you don't understand…'

'I don't need to understand, I just need you to leave!'

'Sir, please! This is about my son. He is ill, we need your help!'

'Sam, wait!'

Sophie walked towards them.

'What do you mean? What's wrong with your son?'

Severus stopped with attempts to throw the Potter brat out and turned away from them. He had a feeling he knew where this was going to go and he didn't like it.

'My son, he is 10 years old, he was poisoned. And only Prof. Snape can help us.' He looked pleadingly to Severus who still had his back turned.

'And who would be Prof. Snape?' asked Sophie.

Potter turned red and hastily added, 'Ashworth, I mean Sam Ashworth of course.'

Sophie turned from him to Severus who had also turned to her. She gave him a long searching look and then she said slowly:

'Well, you did say there were things you couldn't tell me about…'

'Sophie, please, I never meant to…'

'No. Sam, or whatever your name is, I agreed to it. You… you asked me to trust you and I agreed to ask no questions. Although I would have hoped that one day you would confide in me.' She sounded a bit bitter when she continued.

'I accept that you don't want to share this with me.'

He looked at her with a pained expression. 'Sophie, I just don't think I could explain…'

'And why is that? Do you believe me too dumb to understand?'

'No! No, I just …'

'Sam, you must decide whether you trust me enough or not. Anyway, if that child needs your help then you should go.'

'I… what? No! No, Potter is probably just over reacting. Like he usually does. No, I …'

'Sam, this is about a child!'

'Yes, but they have plenty of skilful healers… I mean doctors… at hand. They can sort it out.'

'No, sir, we have not managed to find anything so far and the boy has been in a coma for the past month,' interjected Hermione. Severus threw her a dark look. Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?

'You heard them. They need your help.'

'I'm sure they are well able to deal with …'

'Sam,...'

'Sophie, look…'

'No Sam, you will let me finish what I have to say first.'

The three friends exchanged looks of silent amusement. They had never heard anyone speak like this to their feared potions master.

'When I was dying you took me to them and asked for their help.'

'Yes, as I was entitled to do after all the years…'

'Sam, I wasn't finished.' She looked straight at him with a steely glint in her eyes.

'When you took me there they did not ask any questions, they just helped me and saved my life. But do you remember how you felt when you were sitting there at my bed? Do you remember how it felt when you thought I might not make it? And now here is a father of a boy in need. He came all the way from England to ask for your help because he now feels as you did back then, and you would turn him away? That is not the man you are, Sam Ashworth, and it is most certainly not the man I married.'

He looked at her for a moment as different emotions were waging war at each other within him. He desperately wanted them gone from here, wanted to shield Sophie from all he had been and all he had done but, as long as they were around, the connection to his former life was too tangible and the danger of her finding out who he really was, was too great. On the other side she wanted him to help and he also desperately wanted to be the man she saw in him. The man that would selflessly help others, the man he had never been and would never care to be if he didn't know that it was that kind of person Sophie valued and admired. And he wanted her to admire him. He so very much wanted to be everything she wanted. He took a deep breath.

'Very well. I will see to the boy. And I will try to help him.'

Turning to Potter he said: 'But when I'm done you will forget that you saw me and I will never see your face again. I want your word on it.'

Potter looked a bit stricken at that, but agreed.

'Then you will come with me and I will hear what you have to say.'

Turning to Sophie he said: 'I might have to go with them. I will try to be back as soon as possible.'

She smiled at him. Her beautiful loving smile. He would do anything to make her smile like that.

'I'll wait here then.'

He sighed and shooed his former students out before him. This was not how he had imagined this evening to end.

Sophie returned to the couch where her family was still watching the proceedings as if it was a television show. Severus wondered how she would explain what had just happened. The entire episode had lasted only a short time but the rather loud discussion that had followed the unexpected entrance of the golden trio would undoubtedly lead to a lot of questions. But he couldn't worry about that now, he needed to get rid of them and fast. Then he would come back and celebrate Christmas as he had planned.


	32. Chapter 32

**So sorry that it took me so long. Am at a place with a really bad internet connection at the moment. But, to make it up to you, this chapter is much longer than usual. Enjoy!**

Severus took them outside to the workroom. He closed the door behind himself and listened to Potter's explanation of what had happened.

'So, just to summarize what you just said: your son made up a potion following a recipe he received from a total stranger on an anonymous platform that is part of an uncontrolled network and you watched him do it? Yes, Potter, I can see you really care for your offspring.'

Harry's brows drew together at this but he remained silent. Maybe the boy had finally learned some self-control? Or maybe he needed to be prodded a bit more to get a reaction? He would find out in the course of this evening, of that he was sure.

'I will have to see the boy and the recipe.'

'He is currently at St Mungo's..'

'I will most certainly not wander into St. Mungo's looking like myself.'

'Well, you could use Polyjuice Potion like the last time?' said Potter.

'No, Mr. Potter, you came here to ask for my help. You want my help you will arrange the conditions so they are satisfactory and safe for me. You understand?'

Severus saw with satisfaction how this did nettle him.

'The boy is in a coma, that means he can be moved without any damage to him, am I right Mrs. Weasley?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Well, Potter. I suggest you march into St. Mungo's and bring your son home. I will tend to him there. While you are negotiating your son's release from the clutches of the healers, Mrs. Weasley will take me to wherever it is you call home and show me the potions recipe. Furthermore it falls upon you to provide me with all necessary equipment should I be required to brew an antidote. Are we understood?'

Potter ground his teeth. Severus saw with relish how the wheels in his head were turning and how he struggled with himself. But again he reigned himself in and nodded mutely.

'Very well. Mrs. Weasley, if you'd be so kind as to take me. Side-Along Apparation should do it.'

It was the first time since they had left the house that Ron spoke up.

'I can do that, sir. It'll be easier for me than for Hermione.'

'Thank you, Weasley, but I do plan to arrive in one piece so kindly keep a healthy distance to me, will you?'

Ron first looked astonished and then slowly turned red. He hadn't changed much either. Severus smirked as he took Hermione's arm and it was the last expression they saw on his face before he disappeared with her.

'You would have thought, now that he is no longer a spy, he would have changed his attitude somewhat.'

'No, Ron. His dislike of us was never a pretence. But I don't care. I don't know how he survived but he was willing to give his life to save us. And I do respect him for it. Maybe he is not a great enough man to forgive my dad, but he was great enough to fight and try to make up for his mistakes. Without him, we would have never managed.'

'Yeah, s'ppose you're right. He could still try to be a little more civil.'

They disapparated to St. Mungo's to fetch Albus.

Severus meanwhile arrived in a dark alley with Hermione. He looked around to get his bearings and groaned.

'Uh… I should have known.'

'Sorry, Professor?'

'I am not your professor anymore, Mrs. Weasley. So Potter couldn't help his dramatic tendencies and decided to settle at Godric's Hollow. Bet the papers loved it.'

'He wanted to be where his parents were happy.'

'As I said: the papers loved it.'

They walked towards the little cottage which had only one light shining in the front window to the right side of the front door.

'The kids will already be in bed. We will have to be quiet.'

'You mean he has more than one?'

'Yes, he has three.'

'Oh, thank Merlin I am no longer teaching.'

Hermione smiled in spite of herself. He had not lost his sharp tongue and somehow it was a relief to see it. It meant the experiences of the war and of all the things he had to go through hadn't changed him too much. And he was definitely not a broken man.

Hermione quietly knocked on the door of the cottage while Severus moved into the shadows behind her. He first wanted to know who would open the door before he revealed himself. Ginny opened and could not hide her surprise.

'Hermione! I thought you were with Harry. He said he was going to get help for Albus. Where is he? Has something happened?'

Hermione stepped inside and took Ginny with her.

'No, everything is OK. We think we may have found someone who can help little Albus. Harry is going to bring him home.'

'Bring him home? Is he mad! Albus needs to stay in the hospital!'

'No, Ginny listen to me. It will not do him any harm to be moved and it was the only way we could persuade him to come and help us.'

'Who? Who are you talking about, Hermione?'

Hermione turned around and beckoned Severus to step inside. When he came into the light of the hall lamp, Ginny gasped.

'You!' she turned pale and reached for the banister to steady herself.

'I wish people were a little more imaginative in their exclamations. This one is wearing off.'

Ginny still looked at him as if he was a ghost.

'Listen Mrs. Potter, and listen closely for as you may well remember I do not like to repeat myself. I came here to help your son. If you should as much as breathe a word to anyone that I am still alive, a simple poisoning of said son will be the least of your worries. Am I understood?'

Hermione was losing her patience now.

'Could you please tell me why you feel the need to threaten each and everybody? You saved our lives. Why do you think we would not respect your request, when it is the least we can do in return for what you did for us?'

'Because I know Potter and his wretched need to "save" everybody. I have no doubt he will feel I am in need of saving from my self-imposed exile. But I am not interested to return to this world. I am very happy where I am and I want it to remain like that. So keep him on a short lead and we will all be happy.'

Hermione couldn't deny that it would be very much like Harry to try and bring him back into their world. To shower him with the recognition he thought Snape deserved.

'Yes. Alright. We will make sure Harry won't overdo it. But you should know he was very distressed when he found out what you had done for us. He was sorry he had never gotten the chance to thank you and had never had a chance to talk openly with you.'

'Ah now, Mrs. Weasley, you move me to tears! I am certainly not interested in exchanging memories and reminiscing about "good old times". I did what I had promised to do and I most certainly didn't do it for Potter.'

'We know that. But you still did it.'

'Can we please drop this conversation and have a look at this stupid recipe? After all you had me come here for the boy and not to worry about Potter's emotional life.'

Hermione turned away in exasperation. How was this wife of his putting up with him?

'Ginny, can we go upstairs in Albus' room? I think another copy of the recipe should be up there along with the potions kit he used.'

'Yes, we didn't touch anything, even after you had examined it. And I told James and Lily to stay out of his room as well.'

Ginny turned to lead the way upstairs.

'He named his son James? No surprise there.' muttered Severus under his breath.

When they entered Albus' room he sat down at the small desk as Hermione put the recipe before him.

'The ingredients are straight forward enough...he brewed this by himself you said?'

He couldn't quite manage to keep the surprise from his voice.

'I know. It's astonishing, isn't it. You would expect a 10-year old to make mistakes. But I made it myself and the smell, look and liquidity were exactly the same as what was left over of his potion. He must have gotten it right. Still we don't know what it actually does. When I tested it on garden gnomes, the results were zero. They did not react in any way.'

'You said "what was left over of his potion". We must assume then he did indeed take it?'

Ginny answered: 'Albus is believing himself a potions nerd. And as such he wants to follow all the rules as laid out by the national potions regulation board. Which means…'

'... he is trying all his potions first on himself. What a stupid boy.'

Hermione couldn't believe his reaction.

'Why stupid? I think it's just showing how seriously he takes the subject. I would have thought of all people you should understand best.'

'I, of all people, understand that you do not leave a little boy alone to try out his potions experiments on himself!'

'He is usually really good at what he does. He managed a perfect vanishing potion when he was six years old. It took us weeks to find James' toy broom again,' interjected Ginny.

'Well, a vanishing potion is something you can find in any household potions book, checked and double approved of all necessary authorities. But an unapproved, unknown potion such as this… this is ridiculously careless.'

'Are you saying we are bad parents?' Ginny was drawing herself up to her full height.

Hermione just managed to step in.

'Listen, let's talk about that later, shall we? You can lecture us on our negligence when we know how to bring Albus back. Until then, could you please tell us your thoughts on this?'

Severus looked back down at the recipe with a scowl. He needed to think. He had never come across this one before. And usually he had a very good memory for recipes. He tried to deduce the effects by the individual ingredients but nothing pointed towards the symptoms that Albus was currently showing. That could only mean one thing.

'You said the gnomes showed no symptoms at all?'

'None. I even tried some of the potion myself, but nothing happened. It can only mean that…'

'...the effects are set off by a spell.'

'Yes, but how are we to know what spell?'

'You said he was in pain before he fell into coma?'

'Yes, he was screaming and writhing like mad,' answered Ginny.

'Did he say anything? Anything at all? Did you have the impression he was hallucinating?'

'No, I think he was just in pain.'

Just then they heard noises on the stairs and turned to see Harry walk in with Albus in his arms.

'I'll put him on his bed, alright?'

'It'd be a bit difficult for him to sit in a chair, Potter.'

Harry shot him a dark look. But Severus had no time to enjoy his reactions now. He crossed the room to take a closer look at the boy. He performed the usual examination spell and then resorted to his knowledge of the dark arts to trace the source of his condition. He spoke a few incantations that none of the others recognised and pondered the differently coloured shimmering lights that appeared over the boy's still form. Harry was growing restless as the minutes passed and Snape had still not spoken. When he finally turned to them it was with a serious expression.

'Curious. Most curious indeed.'

'And what exactly does that mean?' Harry asked impatiently.

'Potter, if you are displeased with my way of doing things I will very happily remove myself from your presence.'

'No! No...I'm just… worried.'

'As well you should be. And maybe in future you will take a closer look at what your child is doing on that … internet.'

He spoke the last word with as much disdain as he could muster. In his eyes it served Potter right to see his child suffering in this way. Had he been more attentive as a potions student he would have ingrained the warnings Severus had given them about unknown potions and their origins.

'Yes, Sir.' Harry hung his head. Another gesture Severus had not expected. And something inside him stirred. But it wasn't pity. It wasn't pity for sure. He would not feel pity for Potter. Certainly not. He continued briskly.

'I detected a dark source of magic. The curse lodged itself somewhere near the spine.'

'Yes, but it will not stay there,' Hermione injected confidently.

Severus rolled his eyes.

'Mrs. Weasley, do you honestly expect me to fall for the simple diversions this curse produces? Your diagnosis spells will not show you the real source of the curse simply because that curse has its own ways to respond to these diagnosis spells. Dark magic can best be traced with dark magic in return. And then it will reveal its true location. The curse is lodged near the spine.'

He repeated with a finality that allowed no response.

'But why a curse? I thought the potion he made was the reason he is so poorly?' asked Potter.

'Some dark curses, though able to wreak havoc once inside the body, are not strong enough to penetrate the body of their own accord. Especially not when the person the curse is cast on is magical. The curse then needs an agent to bring it into the victim's body. My guess is that in this case it lodged itself onto the Asphodel that is part of the recipe and is often used in this manner by healers. The other ingredients of the potion probably only served to make up a harmless enough concoction to hide the true reason of the potion.'

'So somebody spiked Albus' Asphodel with a curse and he then used it in his potion? But we bought all his ingredients in an apothecary.'

'Potter, if you had payed more attention in my classes you would know that what your giving off here is utter tribe. The curse was not cast on the Asphodel when or before it was bought. The boy must have spoken the curse himself by having been mislead as to its purpose or it was cast on him while he was out and about. I expect he is visiting a normal primary school?'

'Yes… but they are all muggle children there… who would …'

'Potter! Don't tell me you still think this was all an accident?'

'But...yes...I mean… who would want to …'

'...to hurt the son of the golden boy who lived? The boy who destroyed the Dark Lord and thus destroyed the expectations and dreams of grandeur of all his followers? Yes, who would ever want to do that!'

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. Could he be right? Could it be that after all these years of peace what happened so long ago would catch up with them?

'Most Death Eaters were imprisoned. The others died,' said Ron in a voice that clearly showed he tried to reassure the others just as much as himself.

'Yeah,' said Potter, 'we caught most of them and those we couldn't prove to be directly involved never showed any more activities of that kind. We do keep an eye on them.'

'Potter, when the Dark Lord first disappeared after... after that night, they did not manage to round up all his followers. Why, Lucius Malfoy lived a perfectly happy live with all his money and all his contacts still available to him.'

'Funny you should mention the Malfoys. They seemed to have learned their lesson. They all served a prison sentence and cooperated. We caught many Death Eaters on their accounts. If anybody should be worried about their security, it's them.'

'Well, I can't see Draco lying in this bed.'

'I ... I don't know. Anyway. It doesn't matter now. What matters is whether we can help Albus. How are we going to wake him up?'

'Potter, you will never change. As always you choose to see only the obvious and ignore what lies underneath.' Severus walked back to the desk and looked at the laptop.

'Can you turn this thing on and see if the boy was sent instructions on a spell to cast on himself after drinking the potion?'

'I can have a look at that,' Ron said as he came to the desk to turn on the computer.

Severus raised a sceptical eyebrow when Hermione spoke up for her husband.

'He really can, Pro… I mean… well, he is a sort of IT expert. He knows his way around computers. His dad is ever so proud of him.' she said smiling at Ron fondly.

Severus felt the strong urge to roll his eyes again but refrained.

'How does Albus get to school? Does he walk? Is he going there on his own?'

'No, I mean, yes, walks but he has to take Lily with him.' Ginny explained.

'I need to speak to the girl then.'

'What? It's in the middle of the night…'

'Do you want your son to get better or not?'

'Pro… I mean… oh hell, how are we supposed to address you?'

'Mr. Snape will suffice, Potter.'

'Well then Mr. Snape, we already questioned Lily thoroughly. She doesn't know anything and she is quite upset about it all anyway.'

'Mr. Potter, as I explained earlier, we can do this my way or not at all. It is your choice.'

Harry looked at Ginny who slowly nodded her head. He shook his as he left to wake up Lily.

When he returned he led before him a girl of about eight years with red hair and yawning tiredly.

'Mummy? What's going on? Albus! Is he better?'

She made to rush over but Ginny stopped her.

'No, Lily dear. Albus is not yet better. But we think we might have found someone who can help him. This man here is an expert on potions and he would like to ask you a few questions.'

'But mummy I told you already that I don't know anything about the stuff Albus made.' Her eyes started to well up with tears. Severus was not going to have that. A sniffly child would not answer any questions. He pulled himself up in his best menacing potions master pose and used the quiet but deadly way of speaking that had informed generations of Hogwarts students that they were in deep trouble.

'Enough! I have no time to suffer your dramatics. You will answer my questions and you will do so in a precise, swift and polite manner! Do you understand?'

Lily, apparently not the least bit impressed, only turned to her mother and said very loudly: 'Mummy who is that man? He is very rude.'

Harry, Ron and Hermione had to turn from Lily to hide their grins while Ginny tried to admonish the child without laughing right out.

'Lily! You don't speak like that about others.'

'But he is rude!'

'He is not rude… he is… stressed … because he is trying very hard to help Albus. And so we must make allowances. Please answer his question, Lily.'

She looked mutinous but when Severus sat down on the chair by the desk with a huge scowl on his face, she went to stand directly before him.

'That day your brother fell ill you were walking to school with him. Is that correct?'

'Yes.'

'You will answer me "yes, sir", do you understand?'

'Yes'

Severus raised his eyebrow at her. Lily merely yawned hugely again and went back to looking at him. Severus glared at Harry and Ginny and continued his questioning.

'Did anyone approach you and your brother on the way? Did you stop to talk to anybody?'

Lily seemed to think and then said:

'Yes...Mr Stubs'

'Mr. Stubs? Who is Mr. Stubs?'

'Mr. Stubs is our neighbours tomcat and he walks to the corner of the road with us every morning.'

Severus wanted to scream as he tried very hard not to let his frustration show.

'And apart from Mr. Stubs… anyone else? Any one human?'

'No…'

He was just about to give up when Lily continued.

'That is… there was a guy… he nearly knocked Albus over. He came round a corner and didn't see Albus. He stopped him falling and said sorry. Then he walked on.'

A triumphant look was spreading on the potions master's face.

'What did he look like? Did you see his face?'

'No… but he was a foreigner.'

'What makes you think so?'

'Because he said some strange words to apologise. I didn't understand them at all.'

'Can you repeat them for me.'

'No.'

The girl was infuriating. It seemed she had inherited all the annoying Potter genes.

'Can you try…? Please?' He ground out between his teeth.

'No.'

He sprang out the chair in frustration and started to pace the room. Harry tried to take over.

'Lily darling, this is very important. Do you remember anything about that man? Or about the words he said?'

Now Lily was starting to get angry.

'No Daddy! I just said I didn't understand what he said so how am I supposed to know the words?'

Harry turned helplessly to Severus.

'Can you help without knowing the exact words?'

'It will be more time consuming and we will have to operate by trial and error and I don't have to tell you what that might mean to the boy's condition.'

Harry looked at Ginny and Lily. Then at Albus on his bed. Turning to Severus he said: 'You could search her memory.'

'What? Potter, I have already broken the rules I had laid upon myself for you, but I will definitely not break the law.'

'But Sir, it is the only way.'

'Then why don't you do it?' Severus hissed in indignation.

'Because you are the most accomplished leglimens present. If anyone can bring her memory forward without harming her it's you.'

Severus considered him for a moment.

'You place your child's sanity in my hands Potter? She would be completely at my mercy.'

'There is no one I know with whom she would be safer. I would trust you with the lives of any of my children, Sir. I know you would never harm them.'

He had spoken with such conviction that Severus almost felt sickened. Here it was again, the manic house elf looks in his eyes. He turned to the girl still standing by the desk and resumed his seat before her.

'What's your name again?'

'Lily.'

'Right, … well… you will look straight into my eyes, do you understand? You will experience a slight tingling sensation and then you will see before you the morning on which your brother fell ill. You will see it as clearly as if you were just there again. I will help you remember everything, even the words the stranger has spoken. So do not be alarmed by how clear it will all seem. Alright?'

'How should that be possible?'

'Child, you do know you were born into a family of magical people?' Severus couldn't believe the audacity of the child.

'Yes, but magic has limits. Albus always says so. And there are things that are not allowed to be done. When James tried to make Albus forget who had set the sofa cushions on fire, Albus said that it's forbidden to meddle with other people's minds.'

Severus took a deep breath.

'We are trying to help your brother. We need to understand what that man did to him, since you cannot remember on your own, you need help to remember. And I can help you with that. You do want your brother back, don't you?'

She looked over at Albus in his bed.

'Yes, I do. It's so boring without him.'

'Well then you will allow me to help you to remember, right?'

'Yes...I will.'

'Then look into my eyes now.'

He performed the spell and as gently as possible dived into the mind of the child before him. He saw fluffy cats, garden gnomes, her brothers and some of their antics, moments of their family life in different locations. It took a moment to sift through all the girly stuff on top and work down into the layer of things the girl kept hidden. What he saw there were memories of nightmares, crying over some dead animal and finally the vision of a man in black clothes with a hood over his face grabbing her brother by his shoulders. He concentrated on this snippet and tried to find the entire memory. When he had it, he followed it to its beginning and went over it from there. He heard the curse and gently withdrew.

The girl had tears streaming down her face and she looked pitiful even to him.

It moved him to see her like that.  
'You did help me a great deal, Lily. You were very brave,' he said in a voice he hardly recognised as his own. Where did all that come from? Was he growing soft in his old age? The girl however seemed to recover on hearing this. She smiled at him as her mother hugged her from behind. Harry stood there and had a slight smile playing along his lips. As if to say "I told you so."  
Severus quickly turned from them and put on his best scowl. It wouldn't do for them to think they were in some way connected.  
'The boy was definitely cursed. I could not make out the culprit's face, but I could hear the curse.'

'Oh… so do you still need me to go through the computer?' asked Ron.

'Yes, if you want a lead as to who sent the recipe I would dare to guess this thing is your best chance. And I do strongly advise you to search for the instigator of all of this. The curse, however, is not one I recognised. But I can write it down and Mrs. Weasley can research it in Dumbledore's library. I should hope that whoever is in charge of Hogwarts now had the good sense of keeping his books?'  
'Yes, Prof. McGonagall is now Headmistress and she has kept his books albeit she moved them to a location where they could not be accessed by the children.'  
The mention of the stern professor brought a slight smile to Severus face. He was forced to remember the evenings they spent playing chess and the banter they had share over house cups and the quidditch cups. But he also remembered their last confrontation and his smile vanished. She had called him a coward…but he couldn't help it. He had liked her and admired her more than any other member of the staff. And it had been the hardest thing to do to pretend to be the murderer of Dumbledore and a follower of the Dark Lord to the face of Minerva McGonagall, when all he had wanted to do whenever she accused him and confronted him was to shout into her face that he was doing his best to protect the children and keep the Carrows at bay. In the year he had been headmaster he had so often wished he could have told her the truth, to make her an ally, he even had suggested it to Dumbledore's portrait, but the old codger had been adamant that nobody must know. He had not understood the position Severus had been in. But he needed to return to the task at hand. No time to linger on the past.  
'A wise move. You know what to do, Mrs. Weasley. I advise you to look in his materials on the dark arts. He has an extensive collection. I suggest anything on mind alteration and un-detectable curses. The counter spell will undoubtedly have to be brought into the boy's body in a similar fashion. I will brew the potion for this. We will meet here again in 3 hours' time sharp.'  
He turned his back on them and made to set up the boy's potion kit. His mind was already mixing the ingredients. He would use a trusted recipe of a potion to be administered to unconscious patients and add the asphodel. And when he was done here he would return home. Home. What a strange sound. In the past the word had never meant anything positive to him. And yet these days it was full of promise and happiness.


	33. Chapter 33

**Sorry all... still at a place with little to no internet. Will try to update quicker though.**

It took him several hours to prepare the concoction for the Potter boy, all the while he kept an ear open to hear the sound of the front door which would announce the return of the Granger girl. Though he mustn't think of her in this term anymore. She was now a grown-up woman. And Potter was a man. In his thirties now. He wondered whether his father would have looked the same way had he ever reached this age? Or his mother? Lily. What would she look like today? It had been a long while since he had asked himself this question. Would she have strands of grey in her red hair? He had detected some coloured strands at the back and on the sides of Potter's head. The Weasley boy had lost some of his red mane. And the Granger girl's hair was less unruly nowadays. They had become different people to the teenagers he had known. But having been away from this world meant that he hadn't witnessed the changes. It felt as if no time had passed when he talked to them - the dynamics between them were still the same. But when he looked at them he noticed how much time had actually passed. And how much older that made him! He hadn't thought about that. But true enough. They were now in their thirties and he was nearing his sixties. He was an old man. And he had spent a long time not doing anything with this life of his. He had hidden away from the world. But then he reminded himself that he had had a reason to hide. He hadn't just stopped and woken up twenty years later. Although at the moment it did feel a little bit like that.

When it was nearing three in the morning Potter came up with a steaming mug of tea and placed it on the desk besides the cauldron. Actually, he should have scolded the boy for bringing a beverage close to a bubbling cauldron and thus risking a drop of the potion might accidentally get into the tea or vice versa. But he couldn't muster the energy, so he just glared at him over the rim of the tea cup. He had to admit it was rather good tea. He hadn't expected that. He could just stop himself from asking what blend it was and where Potter procured it. Instead he chose a different topic of conversation.

'So, Malfoy is not serving a life sentence?'

'No. Mrs. Malfoy helped me, and Draco was just a frightened git who thought he could play with the big boys and then learned he didn't have it in him the hard way.'

'Narcissa helped you?' Severus eyebrows shot up in surprise.

'Yes. Do you actually know what happened after… I mean after the shrieking shack?'

'No… and I'm not sure I want to, ' he said in a soft and low voice.

Potter nodded his head and remained quiet. But Severus realised that this was his one chance to find out how the Dark Lord had been defeated. To hear a first-hand account from the boy who had done it himself. The death of the monster that had killed his Lily.

'The battle was in full swing before I was called down into the shrieking shack. I had tried to protect as many of the students as I could, trying to secretly stun some of the death eaters while I was searching the castle to find you.'

'Yes, some of the survivors later said they thought you had stunned their attackers. They said how they couldn't believe you had done it to help them and how they had tried to knock you out in return. Later, they were sorry of course.'

The survivors? Yes, of course. It had first struck Severus as odd that Potter used this word. But then he had seen some die himself.

'Many died.' It was more of a statement than a question.

'Yes. Unfortunately. Even some of the students… Lavender Brown, Colin Creeve…'

Severus got out of his chair and started to pace the room. He didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know how many of those he had sworn to protect he had failed. He wanted to shout at Potter to shut up. He wanted… he wanted it all to be untrue. He wanted all of what happened to be untrue. But he knew it wasn't, just like he knew that at some point in his life he would have to find out.

'Who else?' his voice was rough and he had turned so that Potter couldn't make out his face.

'McGonagall survived you said? What about Flitwick?'

'He did too. Fred died…Fred Weasley.'

Severus spun round. He looked horror struck. He didn't even want to imagine the grieve of Molly and Arthur. They had never been "friends", but they had always been decent to him and that was more than could be said of a lot of the other members of the order. They also had risked more than many other families what with almost the entire family being part of the order.

'Bloody Gryffindor bravery.' It was all he could spat out.

But again Potter only nodded. It was starting to infuriate Severus. This new accepting and adult Potter. This Potter that had stopped looking up at him with loathing and was now instead looking at him with understanding and even sympathy.

'And … Remus. Remus and Tonks. They also died.'

That again made Severus stop in his had had a son. A baby boy back then. He had always disliked the werewolf. Immensely. But he felt such a surge of pity for the boy, he couldn't quite believe he was in the right body. He looked down. Not meeting Potter's eyes. That was the last of them gone. They were all dead now, his old tormentors. Potter first, then that mongrel Sirius, then the dimwitted rat and now even the werewolf. Of all of them he would have expected the werewolf to make it. He hadn't been as arrogant as Potter, nor as hot-blooded and impulsive as Black and he had definitely had more brains than the rat. But all the same he was gone. And now only Severus was left. The one they had always mocked and always made fun of. He should have felt vindicated, should have felt they had received what they deserved. He felt neither. Instead he felt petty for having held a schoolboy's grudge against men that had sacrificed their lives to save others.

'The boy, what became of him?'

'You know they had a baby?'

Severus looked up and sneered.

'Of course we knew. The Dark Lord ridiculed Bellatrix more than once for her new relation to a werewolf. Made her promise she would "take care of the problem". If I had to venture a guess, I would say that it was her who killed them.'

Potter's face darkened.

'Yes, Lucius Malfoy said something like that as well. Teddy grew up with his grandmother and with us. I am his Godfather. He is like one of our children to us. And Bellatrix Lestrange… well, she should have never assumed that Molly Weasley was just a housewitch with a knack for cleaning spells.'

Severus eyebrows shot up.

'You mean…?'

'Molly killed her. Bellatrix had tried to attack Ginny and Molly wasn't prepared to lose another child. She didn't stand a chance. Molly can be vicious.'

That brought a smile to Severus' lips which he quickly tried to hide by returning to his cup of tea and taking a proper sip.

Potter continued to tell him about that night and almost another hour had passed before they heard the front door downstairs open and close softly.

Potter went downstairs and Severus sat down by the desk again to take a moment. He had the answers to questions he had not dared to ask himself for nearly twenty years. He didn't quite know how to feel about it yet, though. And there was no time to find out right now. He looked over to the sleeping form of the boy. He had to be Severus' priority now.

Severus was certain they had but one try. After the Granger girl had held out the book with the curse she thought would fit, and he had read and re-read it three times, he was sure that this could not be repeated. The probable damage to the nervous system of the boy would be too great. But Potter didn't need to know that. He and his wife were anxiously standing by the door and watched as Severus readied the potion. He positioned Hermione right beside him to hold the book with the counter incantation. It wouldn't even do to practise the incantation before using it. He wouldn't know whether he had done it right unless it showed the intended effect. Thankfully, he had always been musically inclined and thus had not trouble reading and understanding the notes that told him how to perform the incantation. But he would have to be swift.

He took the potion in his right hand and his wand in his left hand. He had trained himself early on to be equally good at using his wand and his magic with both hands, having understood the hard way (thanks to Potter Senior) that only relying on one hand was foolish. He used a spell to slightly raise the boy and open his mouth, then he transferred the liquid from the vial into the boy's mouth, making him swallow it with another spell and then immediatelly started to chant the incantation as written in the book. He sank deeper and deeper into a trance, knowing his connection with the magic of the incantation was the key to success. If he could take control over the magic and direct it where it needed to go, where he knew the curse was lodged, then he could make this much more effective. He concentrated and tried to picture how the incantation entered the boy's system with the Asphodel. He willed it to go through the stomach's walls into the main blood stream and then brought it to the spine. There he almost felt how the two magical strands waged war against each other and he tried to support the lighter magic with all his abilities, all the while chanting and feeding the incantation the necessary strength through his voice and concentration. He felt how the curse grew weaker, but he knew he could not give in yet. It did put up quite a fight. He didn't know how much time had passed but he felt himself weaken and knew he could not keep this up much longer. He needed this to come to an end, and soon. He tried to give the incantation an extra push and ...he felt how the curse gave in. The gasps of those standing around him he did not hear as he sank to the ground, knowing he had defeated the curse.

It took him a moment to come around again. He felt how he was helped up and sat on a chair. Swaying, he managed to throw the many hands off and still stay in the chair. It did take a considerable effort though. But he did not want them to think he was too weak to sit. That just wouldn't do.

When he thought he could risk it he opened his eyes and found Potter staring at him. Ginny and Hermione were bending over the boy while Ron stood by his side. No doubt he thought he might have to catch his old potions master should he really fall off the chair. Severus just scowled at him until he moved to stand by Potter's side.

'The curse is gone,' said Potter.

'How very observant of you, Potter,' Severus sneered tiredly.

'All his vital signs have returned to normal again… he still isn't waking up though.' said Hermione from the boys side.

Severus sighed and raised himself, taking a moment to steady himself and then walking over to the boy's bed.

'Step aside, if you please.'

He bent down and performed the scans himself again. The boy was fine. Nothing of the curse seemed to have lingered behind. It was safe to wake him up. He bend lower and softly spoke

'Enervate.'

The eyes of the boy fluttered open and Severus' heart stopped beating. He was looking straight into the eyes of Lilly. Clutching his chest he stumbled backwards. Potter steadied him and took him back to his chair. He turned away and used the moments everybody else was engaged in welcoming the boy back to compose himself again. Lilly's eyes. Of course. One of them was bound to have them. Just as well it wasn't the girl. It would have been even harder to bear seeing the Weasely red hair with Lilly's green eyes. As it was, the boy looked like his father. Not that it made it any better. But maybe it was good that a part of Lilly was thus carried into the next generation… and it would live on. Through her grandchild. Her grandchild. Good Merlin, he was old. This child could be his grandson… if he had been Lilly's, if ...No! It was no good to think about this. He knew that. Nothing good had ever come of wishful thinking. He had a different live now. He had Sophie. She was his future. Not Lilly. Lilly had never been his. And her family was not his. Yet again he had helped them. All of a sudden, the pain was gone and it was replaced by a feeling of contentment, almost happiness… he had helped Lilly's family again. She was living on in them and he had made sure that would continue. It felt good to see it like that. He looked up and saw Potter embracing his son. He couldn't help but smile. Lilly was there, right before him. He could let go now. It was OK.


	34. Chapter 34

Ginny turned to him anxiously.

'Will he be alright now? He won't suffer any after-effects, will he?'

Severus raised himself heavily from his chair and went over to the little crowd that had gathered around the bed.

'Has he spoken?'

'No,' Potter answered with a worried frown on his face.

Severus bent over the boy.

'Boy, can you hear me?'

The little face nodded up and down and the green eyes were large and fearful.

'What is your name?'

'A...Albus Severus Potter.'

Severus started. He turned quickly to Potter who had the grace to look at his feet in embarrassment. He couldn't believe it. Nobody was meeting his eyes when he looked around. Potter had named his son after him! The audacity of it! A little voice piped up from below.

'Who … who are you?'

He had forgotten momentarily that he was blocking the boys view and that he was the only person the boy could see.

'I came to help you. Your parents are right here,' he made to move away.

'Are you a...a ghost?'

He looked at the boy dumbfounded.

'What? Why would I be a ghost?'

'You...you look like Severus Snape. But he … he is dead.'

Severus looked sharply at the boy.

'How do you know what Severus Snape looks like?'

The boy just silently pointed at a poster right at the foot end of his bed, which had been black and empty just moments before. Now it sported the menacing image of Hogwarts' potions master Severus Snape in a towering pose. He looked incredulously back down at the boy.

'Why, by Merlin's beard, would you have that poster in your bedroom?'

'Severus Snape was the best potions master of the last three centuries. And he was a powerful wizard, no matter what James says… and he was a hero. He saved Dad's life. My Dad said so himself.'

Severus pressed his lips into a thin line and turned back to Potter, who was smiling lovingly down at his offspring and did not notice the death stare directed at him.

'Well, I was called upon to help you recover and that is all you need to know. And for your own sake I do advise you to not test your potions on yourself anymore. I suggest some unwelcome sibling or something similar for future experiments.'

He grinned to himself at audible gasp that followed his last comment and saw with relish as Potter turned flustered to his son and said,

'Or you test it on one of Granny Molly's garden gnomes, right? Much better that way. You don't want to hurt your brother or sister, now, do you?'

The boy looked for a moment as if he was going to contradict his father but then just turned back to Severus.

'But the international statutes of potioneering…' he started to say but broke off when he saw Severus look. But he took the opportunity to continue with his questioning of his hero.

'So you are Severus Snape. Dad told me all about you. I knew you were not dead,' he said convincingly. Severus looked upon him sharply again.

'What do you mean by that?'

'Well, if you are as great, clever and brave a wizard as my Dad said you were, how could some random snake's poison possibly have killed you? You would have taken all kinds of precautions and have been prepared for the snake poison by taking antidotes, wouldn't you?'

Severus once again looked as if struck by lightning. The boy was almost worshipping him. A Potter to boost! And for a fleeting second he tried to imagine what James Potter would have said had he heard his grandson speak thus of old Snivellus.

'Well, it is none of your concern,' he said cordially, 'All you should worry about now is to get back up on your feet again. And until you are fit to do so you should remain in bed and take the potions I will leave for you.'

He turned and walked back over to the cauldron. He took out his wand and cleared away the remains of the antidote he had brewed. Then he picked up his cloak and reached into one of his hidden pockets to fish out a enlargeable potions cabinet. He placed it on the table before him, enlarged it with a tap of his wand and opened it. A rack with neatly ordered crystal vials appeared and rose out of the wooden case. He gave it a light tap with his wand and the rack rotated. When he had found what he was looking for, he gave it another tap and took out a vial with a vivid lilac colour. He just wanted to turn to the Granger girl when he found her standing right behind him with her mouth wide open.

'I have always wanted one of those! They are so rare. How did you manage to get hold of it?'

She asked him in awe.

'What is it?' asked Ron.

'It it an apothecary's cabinet and it is extremely rare. So I will thank you for keeping your hands off,' he replied shortly. 'Give this to the boy precisely in two hours. One teaspoon full. Another two hours later give him half a teaspoon. Same amount another four hours later. At noon he should get up and move around. If he is feeling weak or dizzy, give him some more every four hours. But don't get him used to it. The potion is addictive.'

The Granger girl nodded her head and took the potion without questions. He mentally shook his head again. They had changed.

'Well, if that is all, I will leave you here. Should any other offsprings of yours mortally poison themselves, please refrain from calling upon me. Thank you.'

With that he turned to close and reduce his cabinet and store it in his cloak again. He pulled it on and made to leave the room when he felt something tuck at his sleeve. He turned and found the boy standing right before him. Before he could stop him the boy had wrapped his arms around his midsection and gave him a gentle hug. Severus looked up in embarrassment.

'I do realise you are grateful for my help but do you have to make it so plain?'

The boy looked up at him earnestly without letting him go and replied.

'You have saved my dad and now you have saved me as well. I don't care what people say. To me you are a real hero.'

Severus could almost feel the colour rise in his cheeks as he freed himself from the unwelcome embrace.

'I am no hero. And you should not mistake me for someone else.'

'I will not tell anyone. Not even James. I promise.'

Severus just gave him a stern look but the boy only answered with a disarmingly bright smile. This family was driving him crazy. It was definitely time to get out of here.

He almost fled down the stairs and thought he could make it out of the door without any further interruption when Potter stopped him in his tracks.

'Sir…'

'Please save your breath, Potter. I don't want to hear it.'

'Well, I was just going to give you this.'

He held out a coin in his right hand. Severus looked at him nonplussed.

'It's a communication coin. Hermione developed them as a way of communicating the training hours of Dumbledore's army in our fifth year. After we became aurors we turned them into emergency coins. Whenever one of us is in trouble you just press the head and the holder of your coin counterpart will be informed.'

Severus was about to hand it back when Potter continued.

'I know what you are going to say now. But just in case. I mean… you are married now. And it is always good to have a backûp plan. So if anyone should cause you trouble... The only ones who will be informed are Ron, Hermione and myself. You can count on us.'

With that he gave him a nod and opened the door for him. Severus looked at him for a moment. He understood what the boy hadn't said. He was no longer responsible only for his own lifve. And in case of trouble it would be good to have help. He pocketed the coin and stepped into the cold christmas night. He walked briskly to the little garden gate when Potter called out from behind.

'And thank you ...very much!'

He turned and scowled but only found Potter standing in the illuminated door frame smiling happily.


	35. Chapter 35

Severus apparated back to Germany with a feeling of contentment, something he had rarely known in his life. It took him a while to get there. He arrived in the woods just beyond their garden and circled around it to reach the street a bit further down, making it look as if he was just walking up the road. The lights were still on and he was feeling a boyish excitement upon seeing Sophie and her family crowded around the Christmas tree. Wait. The lights were still on? It was almost six o'clock in the morning. The car of Sophie's aunt and uncle was still parked in front of the house. They were elderly people. Could they really still be up at this hour? There was no light upon the horizon yet, it wouldn't be dawn for at least an hour. They wouldn't be waiting up for him, would they? No. He was sure of that. He had told Sophie it might take time till he would make it back. And his family still hadn't particularly warmed to him, so they wouldn't worry too much about his whereabouts. Or would they wait up to question him about this strange display and those weird people that had barged in on their Christmas celebration? He had made it to the garden gate and stopped just short of entering. So he couldn't believe that. She was loyal to him and would not allow them to treat him like some criminal suspect to be interrogated. No. Something was wrong here. Something was wrong...but what was it?

Severus reached out with his magic and felt for his security charms, his strongest and most protective first. It took him a moment to fully realise it… it was gone. Somebody had disarmed it. And whoever had done that, had either had good instructions or was very powerful. A sinking feeling of fear was creeping up inside him. No, wait. Not all charms he had put in place were gone. Only this one charm was disarmed. The one that would prevent unwanted apparation and unwanted entry by magical people. No witch or wizard could enter this house without being invited by the owner (Sophie) or the caster of the charm (Severus). But this very powerful net of magical protection, that usually covered the house and its garden was gone. Someone was inside his home with his wife and his family. And if they disarmed a powerful protection charm to get inside, their intentions were not of a friendly nature. Panic was rising. Who could it be? Potter had found him. But only by chance. When they got here they hadn't known they would find him here. The boy was poisoned. For no obvious reason. Unless… but that was far fetched. Too far fetched, wasn't it? They couldn't have been sure it would be him who would cure the boy. They couldn't have known Potter would find him if Potter hadn't known himself… could they? Or had they somehow found out he was alive, his alias, and had only used Potter and his son to find him? Who would go to such length? He circled the outside of the garden fence to reach the back again as he was contemplating these questions. It didn't help matters though. He needed to get inside to know who the attacker was and he needed to do so without being noticed. If they held Sophie hostage, he didn't have many options. He would make sure though that she would live. No matter what. This time he would not lose whom he loved. A new, grim determination set itself within him. He would only need the slightest chance… and he would make them pay.

How could he get inside the house without them noticing his arrival? And how many were they? Where had they positioned themselves within the house? He was alone. That was a distinct disadvantage. Not that he feared taking on multiple opponents, but if he went down, there was no one left to save Sophie. He couldn't risk that... The coin. It was still in his pocket. He took it out and looked down at it. Who would have thought that he was going to be taking Potter by his word so soon. If the boy showed up he would owe him. He would owe a Potter… but if that meant that Sophie would live? He would even beg James Potter himself for help if it would mean Sophie's survival. He pressed the Queen's head in the middle and the coin emanated a gentle glow. Words appeared around the head. He had to squint a little to read them, they were so little...or he had grown so old, he thought ruefully. It read "Golden Trio alerted. Help on the way."

Golden Trio? Honestly? The boy just had no… oh what the hell. He needed to concentrate on the house now. His best bet would probably be to enter from the roof. They would expect an unsuspecting Severus to enter through a door. But the roof had a window that lit up the upstairs hallway. He could silently open it, climb in and then try to get downstairs without being noticed...but that would mean getting on to the roof first. He could apparate, but that would be loud. The popping noise would probably be heard if someone was standing in the hallway downstairs. He could try to fly up there. The way the Dark Lord had taught him. But he had placed dark detection spells on the house. He would have to disarm them first or those inside the house would be alerted. It was cleverly done, he thought with malice. They had only disarmed the one spell that could have prevented their entry and left everything else in place so that they could use it. They must know him and must know a lot about his abilities. But they would regret ever having set foot in his house. He would make sure they crept further round the back until his view of the house was covered by the garden shed. Their he straightened up and took out his wand to search for the thread of magic that was his dark magic detector. Once he had found it, he disarmed it and searched the other spells for anything useful. He still had some surprises in store for them, he thought grimly. This was the moment. He hoped Potter would come.

He flew up to the roof and as silently as possible opened the roof window. He peered in cautiously. No one was to be seen in the upper hallway. Just to be sure he cast 'Homenum Revelio'. He received a revelation of human presence in the room down the hallway. So they had taken into account that he might not just enter his house as unsuspecting as he thought they would. He let himself down through the window silently and saw the bathroom door to the right of the hallway stand open. He made his way over and slipped inside. He didn't have to wait long before he heard someone walk into the hallway from the right. Severus mind was blank and cold. Concentrating alone on the task ahead. He didn't feel his heartbeat and he wasn't nervous. It was something he had taught himself very early on in his Death Eater days. He could switch off his feelings completely and only use his analytical mind to get through a situation. With this cold blood he opened the door further after the man had passed and silently crept up behind him. A silent stunner made him fall and he caught him to silently lay him down on the carpeted floor.

He did not know the face. He looked like a young man in his early twenties. Dark hair and a beard the way the young wore them nowadays. With lots of styling product shaped into ridiculous twirls. He searched the pockets. No evidence as to who he was or who had sent him. No use wasting time on this one. He cast ropes to bind him and remembered something he had once seen in a muggle movie and which he had found revolting. With his wand he took off the man's right shoe and sock and then levitated it into his mouth. Yep. Definitely revolting, especially when considering the smell. But it would only be the first thing this baboon would have to suffer from.

He went to the banister and looked down. Another revealing spell told him there was a guard in the lower hallway as well. How to get rid of that one? The wooden stairs creaked when you walked them down. He would have to cushion his steps. With the spell in place he started down. The guard was standing to the right of the stairs, next to the door leading down into the cellar. From there he could unexpectedly attack anyone either coming in through the front door or the up the stairs from the cellar. Severus knew he would only get one shot for this one. He took a deep breath and jumped into the hallway, casting a stunner at the same moment, quickly followed by a spell to slow down the fall of the guard. Excellent. He caught him in time and made him hover, taking him back upstairs quickly to where his fellow was still bound and gagged. There he bound and gagged him as well and took a hair of his. Bringing out his apothecary's cabinet he searched for a sample of his polyjuice potion and dropped the hair inside. They would never know what hit them.


	36. Chapter 36

When the door opened Mulciper looked up, quickly raising his wand with his head in one fluid movement and pointing it at the man who had just entered the living room.

'Chester, you idiot. I nearly stunned you. What do you want? Why aren't you on your post?'

The man just stared at him for a moment then gave an incomprehensible grunt and turned to the room at large.

'Chester, get the fuck out and stay on your post. When that bastard of a traitor comes back we don't want him to surprise us. Or do you fancy telling him we messed up because you thought it was unfair that Jamie here gets to fuck his wife?'

For a moment Mulciper thought he saw a glint in the idiots eyes. Chester was useless really. He had the brains of an amoeba and the build of a rhinoceros. So Mulciper was more than surprised when Chester, who was already on his way out of the room, spun around with unprecedented agility and aimed a stunner at Mulciper. He stood no chance and collapsed on the wooden floor. But the remaining four wizards who had witnessed this attack, didn't take long to recover. None of them wondered why Chester had suddenly gone mad. The invaders knew who they were dealing with here. The gagged and bound muggles on the floor at the end of the living room by the fireplace were immediately surrounded by them. Still, the new and more powerful Chester was hard to take out. The fight continued for what seemed ages until one of them grabbed the woman they knew to be Snape's wife and held his wand to her throat.

'Stop. STOP!' He roared.

'Lay down your wand or she will die.'

Chester, who had sought cover behind the wall leading into the breakfast room, looked carefully around the corner.

'Who are you? What do you want?'

The voice was a deep rumble. It couldn't have been more unlike Chester's own voice. This had to be the man they had been waiting for. The hated traitor. The bastard whose treason had destroyed their own and their families lives.

'Give up your wand, Snape. You want your family to live, you roll it over here and step out with your hands raised. '

For good measure he grabbed the hair of the woman before him and pulled her head back. She emitted the intended little shout of protest and he saw the one visible eye of his target open wide. He cared for her. He would give himself up readily enough. But first his face disappeared again and the voice spoke

'Why should I hand myself over to you? You will kill all of us anyway. Better to go down fighting and take as many of you with me as I can.'

'Yep. But before you have taken us all out I will put the membrum coquaris on your wife and if half the stories of you are true you will know what that curse will do to her.'

Severus took a deep breath. He mustn't panic now. Sophie would not suffer and she would not die. This cretin was going to regret the day he was born. But for now he needed to do something. Think, Severus Think! Potter would come. He was sure of that. But he would need multiple stops to get here. More than Severus had needed. He wasn't as strong and therefore could not apparate the same distances that Severus could. He calculated 45-60 min from when he had activated the coin. That must have been a good 15 min ago. So he needed to keep them busy for at least half an hour.

'I want you to release the muggles before I give myself up.'

'No, Snape, you have nothing to bargain with. You will do as I tell you or your wife's insides will spill all over your nice carpet.'

So he did know what the spell could do. But would he be able to perform it? On the other hand, was he willing to risk finding out whether this idiot was able to perform such a complex and dark curse? No, he definitely wasn't.

'Sam! Sam! Don't give yourself up...Don…argh.'

Sophie! Fine then. He had to trust that Potter would come and save the day once again. Oh my. How far had he come, placing his trust in Potter.

'Fine! Here is my wand.'

He threw it out into the room.

'Now step out with your hands raised. And no sudden movements or your wife is minced meat.'

Oh, he would pay. Severus stepped out with his hands raised. Before he could do much more than blink he was surrounded by three men that pointed their wands in his face. Ridiculous really. They had watched too many muggle movies. With a wand a safe distance to your enemy was always the better option. Being up close meant being vulnerable. And if Sophie wasn't still being held by that disgusting example of stupidity he would now teach them why it was dangerous to be so close to your enemy. Instead he allowed them to bind him with magical ropes. At least they released Sophie once they had him bound.

'So this is the famous traitor. You don't seem much like the dangerous bastard they kept telling us about. It was way too easy to make you give up.'

The leader of their little gang wanted to take advantage of the situation and show what a badass wizard he was. That was fine with Severus. As long as he was talking, he wouldn't do much else. So he needed to keep him talking.

'I really don't know what you are talking about. I live a quiet live with my family here and I have no idea why you attacked my house.'

'Oh you don't, do you? Well, Severus Snape, we know who you are. You are the reason why the Dark Lord fell. And with him all our families. You are responsible for our situation and we will make you pay.'

He had talked himself into a rage. His head looked remarkably like an overripe tomato. But it was too much to hope for a stroke, he was too young and probably too healthy.

'I don't know what you are talking about.'

'Stop lying to me.' A well aimed kick hit him in the ribs.

'You are Snape. You had Polyjuice Potion right at hand. And don't tell me that's part of your everyday household potions. And your voice, it is just like what my father told me about you. Dull and stupid.'

'Your father? Do I have the pleasure of knowing him?'

'Yes, you traitor. My father is Mulciber. Remember? He is rotting away in Azkaban thanks to you! And today you will pay for everything my family had to endure in the last twenty years.'

'Mulciber, we are to take him back to him. You know that.'

'Shut it! He can have whatever is left of him when I'm through with him. I have been waiting too long for this moment.'

He had a mad glint in his eyes and Severus knew this was going to become unpleasant.


	37. Chapter 37

Harry locked the door after he had heard the noise that indicated Ron and Hermione had apparated. It had been a long night. James and Lily would wake up soon. He wanted to catch a bit of sleep before that. Little Albus had been very reluctant to go back to sleep but could be persuaded after being told that Prof. Snape alias Sam Ashworth would not be pleased with a disobedient child. Harry chuckled to himself. Stories of an unhappy Father Christmas who would not bring presents had never made an impression on Albus. But tell him his big hero would disapprove of his behaviour and he was as good as a lamb. He would have to remember that. He went up stairs and looked into the boys bedroom again. What a relief. He would wake up later as if nothing had ever their family could go back to their normal little life. It had been such a shock. After all these years that he had lived in relative peace, if you disregarded his job as an Auror, which was just that, a job, and therefore to him a calculated risk, suddenly this old and familiar fear of possibly losing someone he loved to unseen forces of evil had been back. This gripping and terrifying constriction that laid itself across his chest just like it had done back in the days of the Dark Lord had returned. He had so wished he had left those days behind. And of all precious people in his life this time it had effected one of them he wanted to protect more than any other: his children.

But Harry would not just forget this. Somebody had attacked his family and he would find out who had done that and make sure it wouldn't happen again. Whoever thought it appropriate to attack his son, Harry would find him and make sure he'd spent enough time in Azkaban to convince them that attacking little children was a very bad idea.

And who would have thought? Snape was alive! He smiled to himself. That old bat had managed to fool them all. No surprise there though. If anyone could pull such a stunt off it would have to be Snape. He was the most intelligent man right after Albus Dumbledore Harry had ever known. And just when they had needed him most, he had been there and saved his son. An unbidden image of Snape in a friendly fairy costume came to Harry's mind and he had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Snape would not be amused if he knew … and that made not laughing even harder. What a night.

Harry went over to the bedroom he shared with Ginny and found her just getting under the covers.

'Is he sleeping?'

He smiled again. She knew him so well. She had anticipated that he would check on Albus before he would come to bed.

'Yes, Love. He is. And he is back with us.'

'Yes.' She smiled back happily at him.

'I am so happy. And who would have thought. I mean, of all people it was Snape who brought him back.' She shook her head in disbelief. 'Did you know he was still alive?'

Harry sat down on the foot of the bed heavily and shook his head.

'No.'

'No seriously, Harry. Did you know he was alive?'

He turned around to her and laughed.

'No, Ginny. Really. I had no idea. I was… I just couldn't believe my eyes. I saw him there in Germany and ...I don't know. I was so shocked. I mean, of all the people we lost and all the people who helped me… he was the one that was always there. He always protected me and I always hated him. And when I realized that, I had to carry that around with me all these years. Merlin, Ginny, he is alive and I finally have a chance to make it up to him.'

'You heard what he said, though, didn't you?' she asked worriedly.

'What? Oh yeah, yeah sure… I won't start stalking him or something.'

'You better not. He is still far from being a benevolent grandfather.'

Harry laughed again.

'Grandfather? Ginny, don't let him hear you!'

'I sure won't. You heard him. He wants to be left alone and I think we should respect his wishes.'

'Yes...sure.'

'I mean it, Harry.'

'Yes. I won't bother him. I promise.'

Harry got up and emptied the pockets of his trousers. The contents he placed on his bedside table and then started to undress.

'But if he should need me, I will be there.'

'Need you? Harry, you heard what Hermione said. By know Snape is probably the most powerful wizard in Britain. What should he need you for? And no one in there right mind would try to mess with him anyway.'

'I'm just saying. If he calls on me, I'll be there.'

He went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Ginny picked up her book and started reading. She was immersed in new magical cake recipes when she noticed a faint glow coming from her left side. She looked over and saw something shining on Harry's bedside table.

'Harry!...Harry, there is something glowing on your bedside table.'

'Wha..?'

Harry looked out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in his mouth.

'Something is glowing on your bedside table.' she said pointing in the direction of the faint light.

'Oh!' he nodded and disappeared again to come back a few seconds later with his mouth rinsed and clean. He went through the stuff on the table and finally saw what was emitting the light. The coin. He picked it up and held it in front of his eyes. No doubt. Snape had pressed the coin.

'Speaking of the devil.'

'What?'

'Oh… nothing. It's Snape. He is calling for us.'

'WHAT? No way.'

'Yep.' he smiled happily and rushed to get dressed again.

'Harry, it must be a mistake. He will have pressed it accidentally. He can't be needing you now...or it's just his sick idea of a joke.'

'Or he wants to test if I'll be true to my word. And I will be true. I'm going to call Hermione and Ron. And then I'll apparate over and check on him.'

'Harry, we're talking about Germany here. You cannot just apparate over.'

'I know. But I won't let him down.'

'You wanted to get some sleep, remember?'

'Ginny, he saved our son. This man saved my life and now he saved our son. And even if all he wants is a cup of freshly ground coffee, I will get him that coffee.'

'Your nuts. Just you see. He will make you his personal slave.'

'Even if. That's alright.'

'You should open up an fanclub with Albus, you know.'

'Who knows. I just might.' he smiled brightly and left the room to contact Hermione and Ron through the floo network. But when he entered the living room, Hermione's head was already there.

'Harry? Harry, the coin.'

'I know, I just came down to contact you.'

'You think it's a real alarm? Ron says Snape is probably just playing a trick on us.'

'That old prick just wants to see if he can chase us around.' Harry heard Ron call from the background.

'No, I think we should go and check. Or at least one of us should. I'll go and let you know.'

'No, I think we should all go.' He heard a loud groan from behind her.

'Ronalds Weasley, I have told you earlier: Snape would never risk discovery just to play a trick on us. And he is doing just that by calling on us. If he pressed that coin, he needs us. And we still don't know who poisoned Albus or why. We cannot risk to take chances here, especially not just because you are tired!'

'So you think he is really in danger?' Harry asked. He had not really thought Snape could seriously need them.

'Harry, I think you should send Ginny and the kids to Molly and Arthur. Rose is there already. But as I said, something is fishy here and we should not take risks. Snape has been living in hiding for almost twenty years. And you heard him. He wants to be left alone. He never liked us. He would not call on us if he he thought he had other options. If he pressed that coin he is in serious trouble.'

Hermione's words shocked Harry. But she was right. He had just chosen to ignore that little voice of panic in the back of his mind.

'Give me a moment to talk to Ginny. I will meet you in 15 min on the cliff at St. Margret's. From there we can apparate to France and then on to Germany. Same way we took yesterday.'

'OK. We'll wait there for you.'

He ended the connection and rushed upstairs. Ginny wasn't going to like this. But better safe than sorry. And he would get to the bottom of this.


	38. Chapter 38

'Sam!'

In a way he was overjoyed that she had recognised him in spite of his changed appearance. In his pain addled brain it meant to him she would always recognise him anywhere. The other part of him was suffering for her sake. He heard her screams and it tore at his heart. They hurt so much more than the kicks these idiots aimed at his body. He gave no sign that he felt them at all, but he stored every single blow in his mind. The exact feeling it caused him, where their boots connected with his body and who's boots they were. He would hold them accountable for every single one.

He heard a loud smacking noise and saw Sophie's body hit the ground.

'Shut up, you muggle bitch. We'll take care of you later.'

Without thinking his chosen mask of indifference slipped and he struggled like a maniac against the ropes that were holding him.

'It is him! We've got him! Ah… you do have a soft spot for your women, don't you, Snape?''

The horrid face of that dungbag Mulciper appeared in his field of vision.

'You can stop the charade now...and don't you worry, Snape. I will let you watch everything I will do to her. You shall have the best spot of all… now let me think, where shall we sit you?'

He rose and turned to look around the room. His eyes fell on an icon depicting Jesus Christ which was hanging on the wall. It had been a gift of a greek friend of Sophie's. A malicious grin spread across his face.

'Tell me, Snape, do you believe in God? That almighty muggle deity that preaches forgiveness of sins, isn't it? I did hate my muggle studies lessons but maybe they were good for something.'

'You could always have chosen ancient runes instead but I guess that would have been exceeding your mental capacities.' Severus replied. He knew it was futile to further pretend. If they knew it was really him they would concentrate on him and leave Sophie alone.

'Snape, I almost felt sorry for you a moment ago. But now I'm going to enjoy this even more.'

He lifted Severus with a hovering spell in the air and levitated him to the wall on the right side of the room, next to where the icon was hanging.

'I heard your looks are far from pleasing to the eye, Snape. Maybe just as well you are… what? Polyjuiced? Yes? Yes, I think that's it. But don't you worry. We will be able to bear your natural face once it shows itself again, no matter how ugly.' That earned him a round of roaring laughter from his companions.

'We will simply arrange you in a way that will make it more tolerable. A way that shall remind us of our past. Our past was suffering, Snape. SUFFERING! And now you will suffer. I don't care in what body you suffer as long as you feel pain.'

There it was again, the madness that sprang from his eyes and that shouted there would be no mercy. It did not scare Severus for himself, but such a twisted mind knew no limits. He would have to do something if he was going to save Sophie. Mulciber petrified Severus from the neck down and untied the ropes. In this state there was very little he could do. He tried hard to concentrate on a spell to see if it would work in his current situation but he could not even levitate the end of the discarded rope.

'So, now let's see, as far as I remember he was undressed and then nailed to the cross. So Snape…' with a slashing movement of his wand he tore Severus' shirt to shreds '... ah… no, not quite yet. But maybe if…' he moved his wand again and forced Severus's arms to be lifted to the sides '... yes, there definitely is a likeness now, don't you think, boys?'

They laughed and Severus closed his eyes in humiliation. It wasn't his body they saw now. But as soon as the potion wore off they would see him. Sophie… and his entire new family. His torso was covered in scars. He knew what impression that would make. But he needed to focus his thoughts on how he would repay them, and most of all on Sophie and how he would do anything to keep her alive.

'Well, there is one thing that is still missing though.'

With another wave of his wand Mulciber conjured big and crudely made iron nails. He hovered them towards Serverus' hands. Severus opened his eyes when he heard Sophie shout.

'No! No, you animal, you bloodthirsty beast, how can you!'

One of the wizards slapped her in the face again. Severus stared at the nails. Yes, this was definitely going to hurt. But he would manage. He had always managed. No matter what kind of punishment the Dark Lord had inflicted upon him, most of the time due to the misinformation he was ordered to pass on for Dumbledore, Severus had always lived through it. He would get through this as well. If Potter hurried, he would probably not even be too affected.

Mulciber uttered the spell and the nails bore down into the palms of his hands. Severus moaned in pain. He could not totally suppress his reaction. Sophie cried out loudly as did other members of his family. He had never wanted them to be exposed to such a display of violence. His life had always been suffused by it, but these people had never know anything worse than a heated argument. His head sank on his chest and for a moment the familiar feeling of guilt was stronger than the physical pain. Until Mulciber released the petrifying spell and the hovering spell and Severus body sacked down until his weight was solely supported by the nails in his hands.

The pain was blinding. But he needed to stay conscious. With a huge effort and a loud cry of resistance he tore his head back and looked up to the ceiling.

Yes, he was crucified like Jesus. Sophie had told him all about her religion. But only because he had asked her. She had said that Jesus had died on the cross to bear the sins of the world. Well, he only had his own sins to bear. But he suddenly felt admiration for an innocent man who had volunteered to bear this torture to free and help others. How strange. Before he had always thought him a fool. And how much stranger still that he should think of such things now when he was hanging by a wall like a bloody painting.

But thinking such things, that were totally removed from his current situation, was helping him to cope with his pain. He needed to stay conscious… no matter what. But it became harder and harder… the pain… think, Severus, think… don't give up...Sophie...don't give up.

He reached for the pain, willing his mind to open up to it, he experienced it in it's full force. He examined it and then willed it to leave his body. Out with the scream that tore it's way out of his lungs. And it worked. His mind cleared somewhat and the bloody haze that had threatened to cloud his consciousness just a moment before, lifted itself. He heard and saw his enemies laughing, standing around totally unaware of the hell they had just unleashed for themselves. His hands were nailed to the wall, but his strongest weapons, his mind and his magical strength, where not covered now. They had finally made a mistake, and now they would pay.


	39. Chapter 39

Severus focussed on his attacker. But he needed to wait. It wasn't the right moment yet. He wouldn't be able to take them on by himself. He needed Potter. But when Potter came he would be ready. If he came… No. The boy would come. He didn't have much brain capacity but he had a playing hero attitude and he wouldn't miss out on this chance to show off.

The door leading from the hallway into the sitting room opened and someone poked in their head.

'Mulciber, how much longer do you want us to wait out there? It's f… hey, why d'you nail Chester to the wall?'

'That isn't Chester, you idiot. That's Snape. Polyjuiced. Now go, find Chester and check on the others. No wait, even better. Bring them all in here. I don't want them to miss the show. And we don't expect any more visitors tonight, so guards will no longer be necessary. We will finally make the dear Professor understand that betraying the Dark Lord was a very bad idea indeed.'

'But shouldn't we bring him to… you know…'

'Shut it, Malory!'

'But you heard… we are to bring him back alive.'

'So what? He will be killed in the end anyway. And I'd rather it was me that did it than leave him to someone who came out of nowhere and has no idea what we had to go through.'

'I don't know Mulciber. You remember what happened to Perks… Fred Perkins? I don't want to end up like that.'

'Malory, if I wanted advice corresponding to your level of intelligence I'd ask a heap of dragon dung. Now get out and do as you're told!'

Malory didn't look too happy about being dressed down like that.

Excellent. So they would all be assembled in this room, no more guards which would make it easier for Potter and Mulciber was obviously disregarding an order from someone above him in rank which lowered the support he had from his team. This would play nicely into Severus' hands. Now only Potter had to show up… he needed to play for time until then… he needed to divert their attention… fear! Fear usually always worked. It might make Mulciber angry though… but then again he would be cruel anyway. Better to play a bit with him now and get him angry then to let him torture him in a cold blooded way. He would definitely enjoy it less when angry.

'Him? Who is it that sent you, Mulciber?'

'None of your bloody business, Snape!'

'You are right of course. But if that new leader you have chosen to follow is anything like the old one was, he won't be too pleased to find out you disregarded his order and killed me yourself. And I can understand him. Leading people is difficult enough, and how much tougher when someone is trying to undermine your authority? He won't have any choice but to make an example of all of those involved. And even if I may not be able to watch that… it is comforting to know what awaits you and your cronies.'

Mulciber blanched slightly and his companions exchanged uncertain looks.

'Shut up, you old bastard!' Mulciber made a slashing movement with his wand and a deep gash opened up on Severus' upper torso. It stung like mad but he laughed heartily. He had struck a chord and scored his first point. He knew now how to play him. And play they would.

Harry, Hermione and Ron met up on the cliffs of St. Margaret, right by the channel. You could see the coastline of France in the early morning light. They apparated across and continued along a line of officially designated apparation points that had been agreed upon by the European Magical Confederation. Their journey was passing quickly. At least it seemed so to them. And in no time they had made it to the outskirts of the small village they had visited the previous day.

'Right, I think we should first check out the area before we walk into a trap or something. Let us circle around the village to where Snape's house is and see if we can spot anything out of place.'

They stayed off the road leading into the village and instead walked silently across the fields and pastures keeping their eyes open for signs of human activity. None was to be seen though and so, without hindrance, they reached the woods that built the natural back garden fence of Snape's house. They moved in between the trees until they were right behind the house and then hid behind some bushes to survey the situation.

'It all seems quiet to me,' Ron said, not bothering to keep his voice down.

'Shhhh!' came Hermione's irritated reply.

'Keep your voice down, will you? We still can't be sure what's going on.'

'Snape will certainly have placed wards around his house. If they are gone we will know for sure whether something is wrong or not.' Harry said with conviction and took out his wand.

'Not necessarily,' interjected Hermione, lowering Harry's wand with her left hand, taking her own out with her right. 'If they left the wards in place or re-erected them after they got in he might still be in trouble. I think we need to be more careful about this.'

She performed a complicated movement with her wand and then crept a few feet on to repeat it.

'What are you doing?' hissed Harry nervously since she was moving out behind the cover of the shed.

'Every performance of magic leaves a trace in the magical environment. That is how we often find out what happened to our patients: we are looking for the traces left behind. If we find traces other than Snapes own signature we will know some other wizards have entered the property. And coming from the garden side instead the front door like we did, their intentions will not have been very friendly.'

While she crept along and performed the spell again, Ron turned to Harry and whispered a little uncertainly:

'Do we know that spell?'

'Yes, but we don't use it. It's not very accurate.'

'That would be the case in a totally magical environment. Where a lot of magic is performed you often cannot tell for sure who left which trace. Also the traces fade and are often overlapped by more recently performed magic. But this is a totally muggle village. Any magical traces here are still clearly visible,' Hermione whispered in reply. 'Here… that was Snape. His magic has this pattern. He was here.'

'How do you know it was Snape? Could have been anyone…'

'Ron, were you bothering to listen to what I said at all? Everybody, and I mean everybody, has a distinct way to use their magic, and that leaves certain patterns behind for a while.'

'Yeah, I got that. I'm not that stupid. But how do you know this is Snape's pattern?'

In the early morning light they could make out a light blush creeping into Hermione's cheeks.

'Well, I sort of looked at his pattern after he healed Albus.'

'What?'

'Well, I wanted to know if he really was Snape,.' she said defensively.

'How would that help determining if he really was Snape unless you knew his pattern from back when we went to school?' Harry asked perplexed.

'I didn't. But I thought if he was Snape, his pattern would show great complexity due the variety of magical disciplines Snape mastered, with a emphasis on Dark arts and potions. And it would be very powerful. I found both in Albus room. So I thought it was safe to assume that he really was Snape. This pattern here is the same.'

'Hermione, come back. You might be seen from the house.'

'Wait!'

She had crept even further away and they could barely make out her hushed answer when they saw her repeat the spell.

'Yes… someone else was here… someone strong, but not powerful… at least not like Snape. Strong emphasis on the Dark Arts… no potions skills whatsoever though.'

She crept back over to Harry and Ron and then declared: 'There is definitely someone else in the house. And seeing the amount of Dark Arts traces in their signature I would bet that person did not come for a friendly chat. Also if they were someone with honest intentions they would not have crept along the garden fence.'

'You mean like us?' Ron said, still unhappy to be there.

'Ron, will you please stop this now? Harry, I'm sure Snape wouldn't have called on us if not necessary and that signature does not bode well. We need to get inside,' she said pleadingly, turning to Harry. But Harry didn't need convincing. He had already been sure of what to do before they had got here. He just didn't know how to go about it.

'So if the wards are still in place, they might inform whoever is on the inside that we are here. How do we take them out without being noticed?'

'Why bother?' Ron interjected.

Hermione was just about to burst into another fit when Ron hastily continued.

'No, no. Hear me out. Why try to get in unnoticed? We are not curse breakers. It could take hours to work through this and if he is really in danger, why risk it? We could just as well come to the front door and find some excuse to see him… we would be inside the wards then and if he is OK nothing is lost. If he is in danger we can put on an act, seemingly withdrawing but really hiding somewhere and then return to help him.'

'... while still inside the wards… yes, good plan, Ron!' Hermione beamed at her husband who turned beetroot red at the praise.

'Ok. Let's do this then and not lose too much time anymore.'

'Yes, and I know just how to do it,' said Hermione grinning brightly.


	40. Chapter 40

The guarding spells announced magical presence and a few moments later the doorbell rang just as Mulciber was dealing Snape another cut to his torso. By now all Mulciber's cronies had shown up, even Chester was on his feet again. The Polyjuice had worn off and Severus looked like himself again. Or more like a piece of meat at the butchers. Blood was tripping from all his wounds but none of the cuts were really deep. They stung and they bled like mad and it was more the blood loss Severus was worried about than the wounds themselves. Potter needed to show up soon. Severus didn't have much more time.

'Malory, go check who's at the door.'

Mulciber was lounging in one of the armchairs which he had turned so he was facing Severus. Severus had managed to keep his focus solely on him now for quite a while. He seemed to have forgotten about his family and thankfully they kept quiet and did not draw his attention. Even Sophie sat quietly in the corner next to her mother. She was weeping silently but he had looked at her and had shaken his head slightly whenever he saw she wanted to protest. At some point she had just given up. Seeing the hurt and the resignation in her eyes tormented Severus. But he mustn't give in to hopelessness. He needed to stay focused. He needed to think of all the things he would do with these bastards once he had freed himself. And use that strength to ban the pain from his mind so that nothing would hinder his use of magic when he needed it. He knew his abilities were strong enough for him to do wandless magic. He would need his fingers though. But being nailed to a wall made that difficult. He would just have to try his best.

Malory opened the door and ...stared into the green eyes of Britain's most famous wizard. For a moment he was tempted to shut the door in his face and run back in panic to Mulciber. But that wouldn't do. He would handle this.

'Yes?' he tried to enquire as politely as possible.

'Oh… Hello. You are new here.'

'What do you mean? How would you know, you have only been …' Shit! He might just have given himself away. But there was no reaction from them. Potter still just smiled stupidly at him.

'I am a friend of the family and am here to ...to protect them while ...Snape is gone.'

Good. That should do the trick.

'Snape is still gone?'

'Yes. He hasn't shown up since he left with you.'

'I see. Well… you weren't there when we left though.'

'No.'

'So how come you are here now?'

Malory was starting to lose his patience. If they kept asking him questions he might slip up again. He needed to get rid of them. Thankfully just then Snape emitted another cry of pain.

'Excuse me, looks like somebody hurt themselves. I had better go and check this out. Snape won't like it if he comes back here and one of his people is hurt.'

'Yes...of course.'

He closed the door in their faces and moved behind the next door leading into the hallway. He needed to make sure they left. He rushed into the front half of the sitting room and slightly pulled the curtains aside. There they were. Walking away. Not turning back. All good.

'Malory! Who was it? And what did they want?'

Should he tell Mulciber it was Potter? He wasn't sure how he would react to this piece of news. Would he be satisfied with the way Malory had gotten rid of them? Or would he be furious that he hadn't tried to make them come in so they could capture them as well? That idea had only just occurred to Malory… oh bugger! What if that is what he had wanted him to do in this situation? Maybe best not to mention Potter. He didn't fancy another dressing down. And if he was honest with himself, he knew he wasn't the brightest candle on the cake. He could make up something...pretend… Potter was gone. He would not come back. Surely.

'No one. Just some muggle from the village wanting to deliver milk.'

'Right. Well Snape, time we moved to some more interesting activities.'

He looked over to Sophie.

'Don't you dare.'

Mulciber laughed.

'Snape, I fear you are in no position to stop me.'

Harry, Hermione and Ron had watched the exchange at the door from a hiding place in the front garden where an old and forlorn tractor was rusting away. Hermione was rolling up the extendable ear she had used to hear the conversation.

'Hermione, that was brilliant. Where did you learn that spell?'

Hermione looked serious, which was unusual because she normally delighted in being praised.

'I learned it from an old book I discovered during my term abroad in Spain.'

'It's brilliant! Why did you never teach us? This could be so useful in our work as aurors!'

'Yes, why did you never teach me?' Ron interjected looking slightly put out. No, actually he was looking completely put out.

'Well, first of all the images you create of yourself will only be as convincing as you manage to make them. Also their ability for facial expressions is very limited. They cannot show the normal behaviour we do when in conversation. And then you can only use them when you can be sure you can hear what is being said so you can answer the right way without giving away it is only an image your opposite is talking to...and then… well...it's not exactly ...this spell is dark magic really. And, to be honest, I don't quite understand how it works. I never thought it was save to use it. But here I saw no alternative. But leaving that aside, did you hear the scream?'

'Yes. Snape is in trouble. We need to get inside. And quick. But we are within the wards now so that is an advantage.'

'But how are we going to get inside?'

Hermione was close to tears. Harry was astonished about that.

'What's wrong, Hermione? You're usually all practical when it comes to problems.'

'I don't know. This is just so unfair… and we brought it all down on him. I mean he wanted nothing more than a live in peace with his new family and we ruined it.'

'We did not. It was the people that poisoned Albus who did. And we will make sure they will regret that. Now come on. Ron and I will go first. You bring up the rear.'

'In what? What is your plan?'

'Oh, I have none. We will just make it up as we go along.' He looked at Ron and they grinned at each other and made ready to run to the front door.

'Wait, you can't be serious!'

But it was too late. Harry and Ron were already at the door blasting it open.

The crashing noise from outside was louder than Snape's swears and threats. Mulciber stopped for a moment and dropped the woman he had lifted by her hair.

'Malory, Chester, go check what that was. Turnbull and Jones, you give them cover. Jenkins and Ports, you stay here and guard the prisoners with me.'

They rushed to obey his commands.

Chester took the door through the breakfast room and Malory the other in first half of the sitting room. They rushed out at almost the same moment and were met by a stream of curses. There was no cover for them in the hallway and they couldn't make out who their attackers were before hitting the ground.

Two down. Harry was not sure how many more were left but he didn't have to wait long to find out they were more than two. Curses where coming at him from behind the door cases of both doors leading from the hallway to breakfast and sitting room. Ron was hiding behind the door down to the cellar on the steps leading upstairs. Harry himself had taken up position half inside and half outside by the front door. They had more cover than their adversaries but if they got stuck here, this would not help.

'Hermione, on count of three, you take up my position and I will move forward to join Ron, understood?'

'Yes...are you sure this is a good idea?'

'Yes.' He said so in his most convincing tone. He still had no plan, but then, when had any of their plans ever worked out? He had stopped making plans long ago. On three he ran over to Ron. Hermione was true to her word and started firing curses and hexes primarily at the guy straight on in the door leading to the breakfast room.

Harry bent down behind Ron's legs and lifted the two fallen bodies up in a levitation spell. He hovered them in front of the line of vision of his enemies. Ron didn't need telling, he saw his chance and rushes forward. He took out the guy in the door leading to the breakfast room.

Harry just wanted to drop the levitation and attack the guy in the sitting room door when he saw Hermione rush forward. A moment later he heard the dull thud of a body dropping to the ground.

'Thanks!'

'Don't mention it.'

They had kept their wands up.

'Right, Ron, you go through this door straight ahead. I will take the door to the left. Hermione, you'll be the joker again.'

Again on the count of three they rushed into the next rooms. What met their sight there was not what they had expected.

When Snape heard the curses flying out in the hallway he knew the time to act had come. Mulciber was positioning himself by Sophie and threatened Severus.

'If these are some friends of your coming to rescue you, they will only find corpses here.' He lifted his wand to Sophie's temple but had no chance to utter a spell. Severus had by now managed to clear his mind completely from the pain and Mulciber had not noticed how in all the confusion, Severus had managed to draw the nails out of his hands. In the moment Mulciber turned to Sophie to kill her, Severus feet hit the ground and the noise made Mulciber turn back again.

What followed happened so fast that Sophie would later not be able to tell who had done what. Mulciber yelled at the other two to attack while he himself raised his wand in his direction. But Snape turned on the spot and within the blink of an eye was behind them. They were just turning when his curse hit them in the back and they fell down like statues. Sophie was pulled down with Mulciber because he had held her hair in his fist. Snape turned as he heard movement behind him and stared at Potter and Weasley who had come in from both doors leading off the sitting room. He stood tall and his right hand outstretched, his naked upper body covered in blood, his hair and beard a tangled mass of curls and blood. His eyes were blazing until recognition told him that the fight was won and over. The next moment he sank to his knees next to his wife and tried to free her from the grasp of the stony hand of Mulciber. When his hands didn't manage, he searched Mulciber for his wand and then used it to severe the fingers off that kept his wife. Nobody had noticed and when he helped Sophie up he knew he couldn't care less knowing that Mulciber felt what he had done to him but being cursed couldn't utter a single cry of pain.

'Professor! You're bleeding! Let me help you!'

Hermione was by his side instantly.

'No, check on my wife and the others first, I'm fine.'

For the first time since he had freed himself Sophie met his eyes.

'No, she will check on you first and don't even think about protesting.'

Her voice was shaking and there were unshed tears in her eyes. How he longed to hold her and let her know that everything was going to be alright now.


	41. Chapter 41

He allowed Sophie to lead him to the armchair closest to them. It had been turned over in the struggle. But a quick wave of Hermione's wand set it straight again. Severus sunk into the soft upholstery and gave a grunt of pain. The adrenalin of the fight and the anxiety he had felt for his family since they had been attacked had numbed the pain. But now that everybody was safe it seemed that it was coming to him full force. He felt every bruising, every cut and the holes in his hands hurt like hell. How he had managed to move them to use them for his wandless magic was now beyond him. Hermione had to try some spells before she found the right one to heal the magically inflicted cuts. He felt the heat and the burning sensation when his flesh was knitted together again and the wounds sealed up. Next she turned to his bruises and healed them.

'You will of course make sure to put some comfrey tincture on, won't you?'

'Get on with it, woman! And stop keeping me with those damn bruises, heal my hands!'

His reaction shouldn't have surprised her, but his bad temper was just not something she could ever get used too.

'Yes, sir. It's just that those wounds are the most complex of your injuries and I wanted to make you comfortable before I tend to them.'

'Yes, yes, yes… get on with it. I don't have time for this.'

She was losing her temper somewhat and pulled his left hand somewhat roughly to her, which caused him to grunt in pain.

'Sorry', she said in a low voice.

The ligaments and sinews that had been severed were quite a task and the bones had been splintered into little fragments.

'Well, we will have to take you to St. Mungos and give you some Skeelo-Grow. The fragments of your metacarpal bones are too small to get them all back in place again. It's safer to remove them with a spell than to risk overseeing one and have it wander about and cause you pain.'

'No.'

'Beg your pardon?'

'Heal my hands or do at least whatever is within your limited abilities. I have some business to attend to.'

'Sir, you can impossibly be thinking of …. Whatever business it is your thinking of. Your hands need care and attention if they are ever to function fully again. And what do you mean by "Limited abilities"?'

He chose to ignore her comment and just held out his hands with an eyebrow raised.

'Fine then, but this will be on your own head.' She kept muttering and complaining all the while she tried to sort out his hands. If it hadn't been for the discomfort of the whole procedure he would have been tempted to smile. She did remind him a lot of Poppy, the maternal nurse in Hogwarts medical wing. Her constant nagging whenever he had gotten himself hurt was still ringing in the back of his head.

When Hermione was done he send her to check on Sophie and her family and then turned to Potter. He and Ron had been tying up the attackers and then had woken them. Severus walked over to join them where they were standing.

'Who are you and who sent you?', Potter asked.

Mulciber didn't answer.

'You don't recognise him?' Severus made Harry turn towards him.

'No… should I?'

'The son of one of your greatest enemies? Yes, I think it would be worthwhile to know him.'

'My greatest enemies?'

'This is Roderick Mulciber, surely you remember his father?'

'Mulciber? Sure… he is serving a life sentence in Azkaban.'

'And you, of course in you naive thinking that the sentence had been spoken and thus justice had been done, completely overlooked that he had a son and did not bother to keep an eye on him.'

Potter looked astonished.

'If I was to keep an eye on every family member of everyone who had at one time served Voldemort', Severus still felt the need to cringe every time he heard the name, 'I'd have to keep track of half of wizarding Britain.'

'Oh no. In that case it is of course a lot better to have your children poisoned and an unsuspecting third party tortured.'

'Don't you think you're being just a little paranoid? I mean, how was I to know someone would, after all this time, still want to harm me? And why now? Why not 10 years ago? Or fifteen years ago? Or even five? Why now?', he said turning back to Mulciber.

Severus also looked down at him.

'Don't worry. I will find out.'

A hard look had come across his face and his eyes had turned black as coal. Harry knew this couldn't mean anything good.

'Sir… Maybe you should…'

He didn't finish his sentence. Severus had suddenly grabbed him by his upper arm and steered him out of the room.

'Listen Potter, I saved your son, I saved you countless times and never ever did I ask for anything in return…'

Harry didn't think this was a good moment to point out that helping him had been his self-chosen penance and just nodded his head.

'... these people, who ever they are, they are after my family. You heard them, I am a traitor to them and they will not let this go until they get to me. I need to keep my family safe. Do you understand?'

Again Potter nodded his head now looking with furrowed brow right through Severus as if thinking.

'They need to leave here. I cannot protect them on my own here. They need to go somewhere safe.'

'Yes. Yes, you are right… and I think I know where we are going to take them.'

'I thought…', and here an unknown shyness or embarrassment crept into Snape's voice. Harry wasn't sure which.

'... I had hoped, that maybe … maybe you're parents in law could help out?'

'Molly and Arthur?'

Severus nodded his head. Potter grinned slightly.

'Hmmm, not sure about that. The burrow was downsized after Ginny and me got married. Molly didn't want so much to clean anymore. The house is pretty small now and a bit cramped to be honest. And once they find out who is behind the attack it will be very hard to keep them from joining the hunt. Especially Molly seems to have developed a taste for Death Eater blood.' A slightly melancholy and faraway look crossed his face.

'But I think there is a much better place for your family to go to. A safer place has never existed.'

He smiled his most engaging smile but to Severus that did not bode well.

'Oh no…. nononono. No!'

'But Sir, surely you will admit that it is the safest place? And would you really trust and old rickety wooden house over the solid stone walls that have been imbibed with magic for centuries and have never been conquered, not even by the Dark Lord himself?'

That useless brat had seemingly learned some lessons in persuasion. But Severus just turned away.

'No… I swore to myself I would never return to that place. I swore I would never set foot into those halls again!'

Potter came slowly up behind him and spoke softly.

'So your pride is more to you than your family? Who are you trying to fool? You know as well as I do, there is no safer place on the surface of this planet. And don't you want the best for them?'

'They are muggles!', he tried hopelessly turning to him, ' They would not comprehend… and I would have to …' he faltered.

'... tell them who you really are.' ,Potter finished for him, 'Yes, that you would. But whatever happened next, they would be alive. And if we take them somewhere else, no one would be able to guarantee that. Where as there we know they will have a chance to either send you away or to embrace you and accept you as you are.'

Severus looked down at his feet. The assuming little brat. Trying to teach him lessons on life. But all that was unimportant now. He needed his help. With a new steely determination he looked up.

'Very well then. To Hogwarts it is. You take them there. I have some other business to attend to before I join you.'

With that he turned and glided back into the sitting room, in his best menacing potions master stride. Harry smiled. He was back.

Then his smile turned to a grimace when he realised, what that other business Snape had spoken of, was. He hurried to catch up with him.


	42. Chapter 42

Severus had taken out his wand and pointed it at Mulciber who, without a sound by Snape, was raised off the ground and like a well bound parcel floated eerily towards the door. The hatred and anger in Severus' eyes were so apparent, it wouldn't have been clearer if he had said it with words. The muggles starred but Hermione was the first to speak up.

'Where are you taking him, Professor?', a slight wavering in her voice betrayed her worry.

'Never you mind, Potter has your instructions. I will meet you all later.'

'Sam.'

It was Sophie. He stopped abruptly and turned to her without waiting to hear what she wanted.

'Listen Sophie, I will explain everything later. There is no time to be lost now. You and your family need to follow Harry and the others. They will take you to a safe place where none of these bastards can get to you. I will join as soon as I can.' And with that he turned to walk away again.

'Sam.' She spoke even softer now. He couldn't ignore that and the damn woman knew it well. Again he turned to her about to sigh in exasperation. But this time she was right before him. Stepping on her toes to reach his face she put her arms around his neck and kissed him ever so gently and lovingly. She let go and he felt like his heart had just plummeted into the region of his knees. Transfixed he looked into her beautiful brown eyes not daring to look anywhere else, lest he should miss what she would say now.

'Please Sam, whatever this is, whatever you're going to do now, please promise me you will be careful...and please come back to me.' There was so much sincerity in her words, so much aching and longing, he felt like dropping Mulciber, sweep her into his arms and swear that he would never leave her side again. But he needed to. The maniac behind these attacks needed to be found for as long as he was at large, Sophie would not be safe. He tore his gaze from her and nodded.

'Don't worry, little one. I will come back', he whispered. He hated leaving her. But turning around he knew he had someone to let out his frustrations on. Mulciber would pay. That was for sure. He continued to float him towards the door when Potter approached him hesitantly.

'Ahh… Sir,... um. What exactly are you planning to do with him?'

'What do you think, Potter?'

'Well,... you know… Ron and me, we are aurors. We can take them into custody and we can question them. You know… make it official and all that. Would save you the trouble. You could go straight to Hogwarts with your family and wouldn't have to bother. And of course we would inform you right away about anything they will say.'

Severus grinned evilly at him.

'Nice try, Potter. But no, thank you. I will take care of this piece of vermin myself. He will regret the day he was born. And when I'm done with him, you can have him to go through the official channels. Well...whatever is left of him then.'

'Sir, but surely you want to know who is behind the attacks? And simply venting your frustration on him will not yield any results. Questioning a suspect is what we were trained for. If you leave him to us we will get it out of him and surely that is more important than mere revenge?'

Severus looked straight at him for a moment as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

'Potter, do you actually know why the Dark Lord recruited me in the first place?'

'Because…he needed a potions master he could trust?' ventured Harry.

Severus smiled condescendingly.

'No. Because he needed a potions master who could make people talk.' And turning to a blanching Mulciber he said.

'I managed to establish myself as an indispensable member of the Death Eaters because there was no one who managed to withstand my questioning. And if I say no one, then I mean literally no one. I did not resort to crude and unpolished techniques of simple torture as the likes of the Lestranges did. No, my abilities, my knowledge of potions and their careful administration, ensured that none of those I questioned resisted for long. The exact and measured exertion of pain combined with the psychological knowledge of stress and pressure on the human mind all administered with a few drops of the right concoctions yielded the results to make me a favourite with the Dark Lord. And I intend to put these abilities of mine to good use tonight. When I'm done with this scum, you can have the remains, but until then, he is mine. And he will learn just how much worse than a nail in a hand pain can be.'

Hermione gasped at this and Ron's face had turned slightly ashen. Harry could well imagine Severus to be capable of all this. But he had to stop him. He could not allow such treatment of a prisoner and, moreover, if it was ever found out, Snape would have to answer for his actions and that could only mean prison.

'Sir, I'm afraid that is out of the must come to the aurors' headquarter and be questioned properly. That is without torture.' He knew he would get nowhere with being resolute with Snape, that would only raise his hackles, so he tried to plead as well.

'Please, sir, consider if anyone found out. You would have to answer for it. You would be sent to Azkaban. Is that really worth it?'

'No one knows I'm alive. And a dead man cannot commit any crimes.'

He wanted to continue out the door but Harry stepped in his way.

'Sir, I'm sorry, I cannot condone this. It is wrong to torture a suspect and …'

'Out of my way, Potter.'

'No, sir, Harry is right. Please consider…', Hermione had stepped up too.

'You ungrateful little brats, who do you think you are…', he didn't get any further. He felt a soft touch on his arm and looked round to see Sophie right next to him.

'Is it true? You want to torture this man?'

Momentarily he was lost for an answer. If he said yes now, she would despise him. If he said no, she wouldn't believe him, and rightly so. But what did it matter. As soon as he told her about his magic she would be gone anyway.

'This scum did not think twice about torturing me. And have you forgotten how he treated you?'

Sophie looked at Mulciber. He looked down at them from his elevated position, bound and gagged with terror in his eyes.

'Severus, just because they resorted to such measure, doesn't mean we have to lower ourselves to their level.'

'Oh please, don't give me that do-gooder, pious nonsense. These men would have killed you! And they would have done so laughing!' he was shouting now. His anger and rage finally finding their way to the surface.

'I know, my love. But that is exactly what I mean. We are not them. I, for one, don't want to be such a person. And I think whoever you were in your past, you left it behind for a reason. Do you really want to get dragged into such violence again?'

He stared at her breathing hard. Did he want it? He searched inside himself and though his anger was still there, it was mainly because they had come and brought this all down on his house and home, the place he thought, he could build into something that would let him forget his past. He let out his breath and with a flick of his wand threw Mulciber against the next wall.

'Fine. You lot take him. But if he yields no answers I will question him myself. And, Mulciber, believe me, I will make you sing like a bird if you push me to.'

Harry let out a breath that he hadn't known he had been holding in.

'Right, great. Glad that's settled then. I will just quickly go and make a port key and then we can take you and your family to Hogwarts.'

He smiled at Snape but only received a glowering scowl in answer.


	43. Chapter 43

Potter started to look for some object he could turn into a portkey. Snape took to prowling the floor in the sitting room. Hermione and Ron put the suspects together in a neat bundle that would be easier to apparate with later and Sophie went over to her family to try to explain that they would have to leave and take refuge somewhere. That did not go all too well. And soon she approached her husband.

'Sam, they are really upset. They don't want to leave. They want to call the police and have these men arrested. Is that an option, do you think?'

Severus sighed.

'No. We need to leave here. And you can tell them their bloody police officers wouldn't stand a chance against these men.'

Her cousin had come up from behind. He told her in German that he and his wife were going to leave now. And that his parents would come with them.

'You are very welcome to leave. But don't think I will risk my life and the lives of others should these people come looking for you in your home.'

'I don't even know ceese mad men. I have nothing to do with 'sis.', her cousin did speak English albeit with a distinct German accent.

'You may not know them, but they know you now. And trust me they don't give a shit whether you have something to do with it or not. They saw you here and they will think they can use you to get to me. But if you walk out of this door now, you will be on your own. If they come for you, I will not come to save you.'

'I will call ce police.'

'Fat lot of good that'll do yer. After everything you have just seen and witnessed you really think police or guns could harm them? I thought you were smarter.'

Sophie grinned inwardly. She knew the best way to get to her cousin was to question his intellect because he was very proud of his academic titles and achievements. And sure enough Severus comment made him pause.

'You mean, cey cannot be hurt wis ce gun?'

'No! You damn fool. Why do you think I haven't called your police yet? The policemen would only be killed and what for? The only thing you can do to save your life is come with us.'

And as if to emphasis this point a loud bang was heard from outside. Severus' head snapped round and he ran to the door leading to the hallway.

He closed the door with a bang and while performing some intricate pattern with his wand shouted:

'There is more of them. Someone must have alarmed them. Potter, get that damn portkey ready! Weasley, Granger, man the other door into the breakfast room. Sophie assemble your family and do what Potter tells you.'

A strange light was coming from the tip of his wand and found its way onto the other side of the door slipping underneath it. A loud cry could be heard shortly after. More bangs and bright flashes of light were coming from the breakfast room. Harry rushed over to the confused group of muggles who had been brought together in the far corner of the room by Sophie. She tried to soothe them and explain that they would be helped. It wasn't an easy task especially as her cousin and uncle were of the opinion that they should better leave.

'Right, can I ask everybody to put their hand on this book? Quick please, we have no more time to lose.'

Sophie translated and again her uncle and cousin refused to cooperate. Sophie eventually lost her nerve and shouted to put their hands on the damn book but the reaction was the same. Like stubborn mules they refused, asking what this was all about and why they couldn't simply try to get out of the house or why she thought touching a book would help.

It wasn't until the door Severus was guarding was blown out it's hinges and Severus catapulted backwards that they finally conceded. Now Sophie didn't want to leave, making to rush over to help Severus.

'No! Sophie stay here!'

Harry grabbed her arm and held it in a vice like grip.

'Let go of me, I need to help him'

'You can't help him. And anyway he can help himself.'

For good measure he was hurling a few well chosen curses at the figures that could be glimpsed through the open doorway.

'Look, he is getting to his feet again, already. Come now, Sophie, put your hand on the book. If you want to help him than let me take you away. You know he won't leave here as long as you are still in danger.'

She knew that was true. Reluctantly she placed her hand on the book. Harry touched it with his wand and there was a sudden pull. Sophie screamed and she heard others of her family scream as well. It was a feeling as if someone tried to push her through a keyhole. Pressure from all sides, squeezing, stretching and pulling at her body.

The next thing she knew was that she had landed hard on some gravely ground. Disorientated she tried to come to her senses. She could hear her mother groan next to her and heard her brother swear and curse. She looked up to find Harry but he was already on his feet. Standing in a defensive pose with his wand stretched out and scanning all directions.

'You must get up. Quick! We don't know whether they might not guess where we will be taking you! Quick get up!'

'Didn't you say we'd be safe if you took us away?'

'You will be, but only after we've got you safely through these gates.'

Sophie helped her aunt and her mother to their feet.

'What gates?'

She looked...and there were indeed gates...old, rusty gates...framed by large stone pillars on which sat winged boars. The strangest sight apart from an old ruin that lay behind the gates and a sign reading 'Danger' and that the building was unsafe.

'That is the safe place you have found us? A ruin?'

She stared in disbelief. But Harry had no time to answer. Two popping noises were heard and Ron and Hermione appeared each holding onto Severus sleeves who wasted no time and walked to the front of the group immediately taking control. He took up position beside Harry and also held his wand at the ready.

'What are you still waiting for, Potter? Open the damn gate'

'I can't, Sir. We have to alert someone in the castle first.'

'What nonsense…'

'No, the security measures have been tightened since then. No one is allowed to enter Hogwarts through these gates unless a member of staff allows them in. I will send a Patronus with a message up.'

'No, that will take far too long. Weasley, Granger group around, Potter stay at the front.'

He went back to the gate through the group of still puzzled muggles and tapped the rusty lock with the even rustier chain that seemed to hold the gate in place and keep it from falling onto the road. The lock suddenly transformed into a face, and that face, an old man with a beard by what Sophie could see, spoke in a deep droning voice.

'State your business.'

Severus looked round uncertainly. He had no choice. He had to save them. With a deep breath he answered.

'Severus Snape, former headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry requests sanctuary within your halls for himself and his kin.'

The face disappeared for a moment, as if it had withdrawn to think about the request. And mere seconds later it re-appeared.

'Welcome home, headmaster. Hogwarts is at your service.'

With that the chain withdrew with much clunking and rattling and the gates swung open.

'In, quickly, get in here, all of you!'

Her family moved quickly through the gates, then Hermione and Ron, Harry bringing up the rear. Severus stood and covered them while they moved. At last they were all inside the gate.

'Sir? Sir, will you not come in?'

Severus turned to him. Looking at Harry and then at the huge castle that had appeared as soon as the gates had opened. A look of deep sadness, almost misery, crossed his features. He would. But only because he was left with no choice. He was back.


	44. Chapter 44

The walk up to the castle seemed to take longer than he remembered. Especially since Sophie seemed to have a hard time making her family co-operate. They were arguing, demanding to be taken back to Germany and complaining because they had no idea what was going on. Lucky sods. He wished he could have no idea. He wished this could have been his first time to set eyes on this damn castle. Instead he walked the path he had walked so many times in his life feeling how the old tightness was coming back to his chest. The constriction that spoke of fear, loss and pain. He was not ready for this. He wanted out, wanted to be away again. But he had no choice. There was nothing for it now, he had to make sure Sophie would be safe.

They passed by the gamekeepers hut… it had been rebuilt. It was bigger than before, no doubt to house some of the giant monsters that Hagrid was so fond of, Severus thought wryly. Hagrid. Would he attack Severus on seeing him? After all he had killed that old bastard. And Hagrid was not likely to have forgotten that. Now that the Dark Lord's protection was gone, there was no telling what that gigantic fool might do. He would, again, have to rely on Potter. He sighed. It seemed like he would never be rid of him. Suddenly Severus felt tired and wary. With every step he took it seemed to get harder and harder to lift his feet, to breath and to think. He just wanted to close his eyes and rest. But there was no rest yet. He first had to make sure he got Sophie and her kin inside that castle. And then he would have to make sure none of them would suffer a fatal heart attack when entering it and seeing the likes of moving staircases and dancing christmas fairies. Oh dear Merlin, what had he started? And how would he explain himself? Everything that happened this night? His abilities? And most horrible of all: his past? Severus just knew this was going to be the end of his marriage. Once Sophie understood what kind of person he was and the things he had done in his past, she would leave him.

These happy thoughts brought them up to the great solid oak doors. Without warning they opened and the group stepped into the entrance hall. A comfortable warmth enveloped them. At least compared to the cold and snow outside it seemed several degrees warmer in here. Although upon closer inspection, there were icicles dangling from places and snow on some of the great christmas trees that were decorating the area. Sophie looked about in wonder.

'What is this place?' she said turning to Harry.

'It's a school.'

'A school? How cool is that? What a fantastic place for kids to be.'

Harry smiled at her enthusiasm.

'Yeah. It is. It's really something else. Especially at Christmas time.'

'How old is it?'

'Oh…'

'Well, it is said that the first castle was built over a thousand years ago, although I don't expect it looked anything like this. And then of course, in the course of time, buildings were added and expanded, new sections built and so on. Much like your castles, really.'

Hermione had come over and relished in the opportunity to pass on her knowledge.

'Miss Gr...Mrs Weasley, would you kindly stop boring my wife with this unimportant tripe and …'

'Sam!' Sophie turned and angry glare at him.

'I did ask for information on this place! And since my own husband seems more than reluctant to share any kind of information with me I think you have no reason whatsoever to be so rude.'

Again Harry and his friends had a hard time to suppress the smiles that threatened to conquer their faces. But there was no time for an answer.

'Harry? Harry, what are you doing here? And Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as well?'

Severus recognised this voice. The sharp and precise scottish pronunciation, the clipped tone, that had made generations of students stand to attention. He had his back turned to the great staircase, but he didn't need to turn to know who was just coming down.

'I was just notified that guests had arrived. May I know what the meaning of all this is?'

'Of course, Minerva. We have brought some … friends...who need a place to stay for a little while. I fear they are in danger and Hogwarts was the safest place I could think of.'

Minerva? Minerva! The brat had the guts to call her Minerva to her face? He stared at him in disbelief.

'Well...of course your friends may stay. Hogwarts is always giving help to those who ask for it. May I know what kind of danger they are in?'

Harry's face turned serious.

'Death Eaters.'

'What!?'

'Yes...some relatives of Azkaban inhabitants. It seems they are also responsible for the attack on my family.

'That is… of course your friends must stay. We will surely find some comfortable rooms for them.'

Severus heard how the voice was coming closer and closer up behind him.

'Will you not introduce me to your friends?'

Harry smiled.

'Well, this is Sophie. She and her family are muggles from Germany.'

'Muggles? Oh dear. Do they know about our kind yet? We will have to inform the muggle liaison office…but Germany? How did the Death Eaters get over there and how did these poor people get in the middle of it all?'

'Uhmm… I think it...'

She had come round to Harry's side and was now turning towards the circle they had formed to look at everybody in turn. Everybody...until her eyes came to rest on a vaguely familiar form. It took her a moment. And she did not realise the expectant looks she received from Harry, Ron and Hermione. But the little cry she gave, that sounded more like a yelp, and the blanching of her face told Severus that she had understood.

'Severus?...Severus!'

And then, just as Severus started to feverishly think about where he had put his wand and whether she would attack him like she had on their last meeting, something happened which he never thought he would witness. Minerva McGonagall started to cry.

A long moment nothing happened and they just stood there looking at each other. One in utter amazement the other in wonder and anguish with a tartan coloured handkerchief firmly pressed to her mouth.

'Uhm...good day, Minerva.'

He really couldn't think of anything more to say. After almost twenty years...what do you say to someone who had tried to kill you?

But she did not reply. At least not immediately. Instead she surprised him again. And again in a way he had never seen her react before. With swift steps she had crossed the distance between them and grabbed him hard by the shoulders before she pulled him down to her in a crushing hug. She did not let go but did try to stifle her crying. In a sobbing voice he heard her say.

'I am sorry. I am so very sorry….Oh Severus. I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am.'

A strange feeling started to well up inside him. Something that ran through him like a tidal wave and threatened to batter his defenses. Powerful emotions of joy and sadness at the same time, ready to find their way to the surface. In what form he did not even want to contemplate. He gently loosed her grasp on him and pushed her slightly backwards.

'Don't be silly, woman. Of all people on this damn planet I would have never expected you to turn into a sobbing, sentimental fool.'

But not even his admonishment managed to bring the fight back into her eyes. Maybe it was because his own voice was not as gruff as he had meant for it to be, maybe it was because he could feel a strange moisture in the corners of his own eyes or maybe because she simply couldn't care less what he thought of her.

'Severus. You have no idea. How often I had wished for a chance to tell you these words. To let you know… just to let you know what a stupid fool I have been! Oh Severus, if I had only known… I would have never… all this time you had tried to protect the children and I had no clue. Instead I had resolved to make your live as miserable and as difficult as I could! And all this time you were on our side! Oh Severus, I wish you had told me. I could have helped you! I could have been there for you. Oh Merlin I cannot even begin to imagine how alone you must have felt.'

Severus looked away.

'Let it be, Minerva. It is past. We did what we were told to do. You played your part and I played mine. That is all there is to it.'

'But if I had only known…'

'Then what? You Gryffindors were never good in hiding your feelings, always wearing your hearts on your sleeves. You would have betrayed me. Whether you intended to or not. No. It was all as it was meant to be. Now stop fretting. I have more urgent matters to deal with now. I need your help. My family needs your help. These bastards have found me out. They are after me. I need to hide my family. Will you help me?'

And now Minerva took a closer look at the people surrounding them.

'Your family? These muggles are your family?'

'Yes.'

A smile broke through the tear stained face of the elderly woman.

'Severus Snape calls muggles his family. What is the world coming to?'

He took the jipe with grace and gave her a rare smile.

'Of course you are welcome here. And I am very happy that in this danger you remembered us here. Hogwarts is a your disposal, Severus. Stay as long as you will. These walls will protect your loved ones and they will protect you. It is the least we can do.'

'Thank you, Minerva.'

'Right. Now let's find you some rooms and get you settled. And then we will have a fine Christmas lunch which will give you ample opportunity to tell me all about how you came by a muggle family.'

She marched passed him with a determined air and he knew he wouldn't get out of this one anytime soon.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. But here are two new chapters for you. Wanted to upload them together. Thank you all for your reviews, especially FrancineHibiscus, it's so good to have feedback. Also another huge THANK YOU to my beta, Sattwa100, you're a star. Now off you go to Hogwarts, enjoy yourselves!**

Minerva McGonagall was as good as her word. They had been shepherded through a confusing staircase which made Sophie's head spin. She had been profoundly grateful that two of her family had always been accompanied by one of Sam's friends since none of her family would have managed the vanishing step had it not been pointed out to them. She briefly wondered how many students hurt themselves on this or why it was not repaired if everybody who had been here before knew about it. But for the moment she refused to think about why staircases where moving. Rotating. Seemingly suddenly changing directions. No. That was all too… well… she wouldn't think about it. She was just relieved that other members of her family found the entire thing equally mystifying. The moment she first saw them she had feared her mind was leaving her.

But if she thought that the staircases were the maddest thing she had ever seen, it was nothing compared to the strange little man with a green bowler hat that came flying through the air. First of all: he was flying…there was certainly nothing attached to his back that would have allowed him to defy gravity. So how on earth did he do that? When he opened his mouth though, Sophie knew for sure that she would not like him.

'Oh… we have visitors! Christmasy Christmas visitors! Peeves will make it snow for you, just to make you welcome!'

He started cackling madly and took something out of the pocket of his very old-fashioned looking frock coat. Sam made his way to the front of the group while Minerva addressed him with a stern warning.

'Peeves, I will have you know, if you should dare to attack these guests in any way I will make sure the bloody Baron will have words with you. And I will personally be there to watch it!'

'Hihihi… strictly strict Minervaly….Peeves will not harm anyone, no harm be done.'

Again this mad laughing.

'Peeves. Who would have thought you'd manage to keep your position here as resident pain in the arse.'

Sam's voice had that cold edge to it again, that Sophie didn't like one bit, but at the moment she was glad about it. Peeves really halted in his process of grinding up white chalk to let it rain on them and his ugly mouth fell wide open, eyes wide in astonishment.

'Listen, you little bastard, these people are with me. Should you come anywhere near them while they are here, I will make sure you will experience something worse than an address by the Bloody Baron. I will personally banish you into a glass bottle, place an unbreakable charm on it and then bury that glass bottle in the deepest, darkest and dankest spot of the dungeons thus ridding this school once and for all from your obnoxious presence. Are we understood?'

Peeves turned beetroot red and started shouting madly.

'Snivellus, Snivellus is back! Ha, but he cannot banish Peeves, only the headmaster can… and you are no headmaster here!'

He was shouting the last sentence at the top of his lungs, but Snape replied calmly.

'The castle recognises my magic, Peeves. And since I never formally resigned but still live, I am still master of Hogwarts.'

'No! No! No! Only one master of Hogwarts! Only the headmistress is master here, the castle won't obey you!'

'Really? And you are absolutely sure about this? Care to find out?'

A wolfish grin had appeared on Sam's face as he drew that little stick from his sleeve again. His eyes were gleaming and Sophie had the feeling he would really like to put this little man into a bottle. Peeves obviously got the same feeling for he responded solely with a long, angry screech and zoomed away.

'What on earth was that?'

Sophie asked in wonder.

'That was just Peeves, the resident Poltergeist.'

'Poltergeist?'

'Yes, have you never heard of Poltergeists?'

He gave her an amused look and Sophie thought he was having her on. She did not respond but continued to follow Minerva McGonagall.

They continued through many winding corridors and Sophie saw flat screens with decorative frames that showed portraits of people. Or groups of people together. Or simply landscapes with something… or was it someone? … wandering through them. She was impressed. This must have taken an awful long time to program… also the effect, that had been laid over the screens was such that they looked like paintings.

'Wow… who programed the screens?'

'What?'

'The screens… on the walls… who programed them? Must have taken quite some time to make it look like things are moving from one frame into another…and so many connected together…'

Sam looked at her blankly for a moment before comprehension dawned on him.

'The pictures?'

'Yes, the screens with the pictures.'

'They are no screens. They are paintings:'

'Yeah, it's really amazing how they were programed. But then Photoshop does have a lot effects these days that I have never come round to master…'

'No, not Photoshop… and none of your computer thingys. These are paintings. Real moving paintings.'

Again she looked at him as if he was having her on. And for a moment the amusement from earlier had return to his face before his features took on their customary serious expression again. This time though they also seemed to be tinged with a hint of sadness.

'Sophie, this place isn't like anything you have ever seen. And when I tell you all about this, you may think that I have lost my mind. But please believe me, this is all real. Unfortunately.'

He paused for a moment. Sophie was lost for an answer but it also seemed like he didn't really require one.

'I have much to tell you...and...you may want to reconsider your affiliation with me after hearing me out. I will give you all the time you need. I promise.'

This sounded very serious to Sophie. She could see he was troubled by this thought.

'Why would I want to reconsider my "affiliation" with you? And whatever is that supposed to mean? You are my husband and we both agreed that we were happy with this.'

'Well, you may not be so happy anymore after you heard me.'

She looked at him in astonishment and then her face broke into that wide smile that he had so come to love about her.

'I don't think there is anything that could make me want to change my…"affiliation" with you.'

He tried to smile back, but it never reached his eyes. Any further chances to reassure him were however impeded by MgGonagall's announcement of their arrival.

She had opened a door and started ushering her family inside.

'Here we are. In you go, no worries, tea and sandwiches will await you and later on you will taste a Christmas feast like you have never had before.'

Sophie thought it was about time they got a chance to celebrate.


	46. Chapter 46

Severus was last to enter the guest suite Minerva had had prepared for them. He had never been here and was astonished when he followed Minerva's explanations of the layout.

'This is the sitting room area right here. This, together with the dining area over to your left, you will share. Severus, you and your wife will be sleeping in the master bedroom straight ahead off the dining area. To the right of the dining area you will find a small kitchen to prepare teas and all that. You will not have to cook, the house elves will provide you with all the food you will want for.'

At that Sophie turned to him, but he just gestured for her to remain silent for the moment. Thankfully she obliged. He would explain all in time.

'Now, to your immediate right along this corridor here, you will find more bedrooms. You may choose whichever ones you like. There should also be two standard bathrooms down there. I'm afraid those you will have to share. But since you are all family I shouldn't think that will not be an issue. So why don't you all take a seat here on the couches and I will get the fire started and order some tea.'

She turned to the huge ornate fireplace to the right side just a little on from the door leading into the corridor. With a short swish of her wand the logs in the fireplace caught light and flames danced merrily to spread a warm glow. Sophie walked into the sitting room to take a seat and show her family that they need not be nervous while Minerva stood behind one of the two big and comfy couches.

'Twinky!'

Sophie turned towards McGonagall to check whom she had addressed. A moment later a popping sound next to her and the astonished cries of her aunt and mother made her turn back. A strange little creature with pointed ears and a long nose, which could easily be mistaken for a snout, stood in front of the fireplace. It was clad in a piece of cloth that bore a remarkable resemblance to a tea towel and had a crest embroidered on it.

'Yes, Headmistress, Twinky is at your service' it squeaked with a deep bow to the room.

'And that…', said Sam turning to Sophie,'...is a house elf.'

Sophie was still staring and it took her a moment to tear her eyes away to look at Sam.

'Right… and they … they…'

'They live here. They take care of the castle and of the domestic needs of its inhabitants.'

'Ok. And what exactly are they?'

While Sophie was asking questions McGonagall had placed an order of tea and sandwiches and the house elf had vanished again with another 'Pop'.

'They are house elves.'

'Yes, but what is that?'

For a moment Severus was tempted to continue this little game, just to amuse himself. But he thought Sophie might not appreciate this kind of humor at the moment so he replaced the grin on his face with a neutral expression and settled down at a little distance from Sophie.

He put one leg over the other and got comfortable. He might as well, this was going to take a while. But how to begin? Where should he start to tell his story? Should he begin with his childhood? Try to justify his actions by telling her about his father and Potter and his cronies Black, Lupin and Pettigrew? No. That just wouldn't do. He had no right to justify his actions and, if he was honest to himself, none of what happened to him was a justification for what he had done. But maybe he was overthinking this anyway.  
He needed to begin with the basics. She needed to understand the world they were currently moving in. If that wasn't enough to have her running from him screaming, he would come back to the rest.  
'Sophie, I am sure you have heard stories of … supernatural things.' He would wait for her reply here, involve her in the conversation. Maybe that would lessen the impact of his revelation to her. He was aware that he was about to break down some of the fundamental truths that these people had believed in all their lives. He would do it as gently as possible.

'What?' She asked looking at him with a confused look on her face.

'Supernatural things? Are you going to tell me this little creature is some sort of apparition and only exists in my mind?'

He smiled. Those muggles.

'No. Of course not. What I'm meaning is, you know that some things cannot be explained.'

'Yet. Some things cannot be explained yet. But science will someday explain them.'

'Says someone who goes to church every sunday? Really, Sophie?'

'That's different.'

'And how is it different?'

'I believe in God. He is explained to me by the Bible.'

'But there is no scientific explanation for your belief or for the existence of God.'

'No...I guess for someone who insists upon a purely scientific proof then the Bible itself would not be enough.'

'Well, you believe that someone was raised from the dead because it is written in a book.'

'Yes, if you want to say it that way. But where are you heading with this? Are we going to argue about religion now?'

'No. I am saying though that you have a set view of this world and how it works. Based on what you believe in and on what you have experienced.'

'Yes.'

'And based on those experiences and on those beliefs there are things you believe to be fictitious, to be untrue or not existent.'

'Like what?'

'Like...dragons for instance. You know what a dragon looks like, or so you think, but you believe it to be a creature of fiction. Something someone came up with to scare little children and write distinctly useless books on.'

She looked somewhat outraged at that. They had had this conversation before. She insisting that a book did not necessarily have to be instructive to be of value but could also be purely entertaining in that it was telling a completely fictional story. It had always been a point of discussion whenever Severus saw her read.

'My books are not useless. There are relaxing and entertaining.'

'But you would never believe that a dragon does actually exist?'

'No, of course not! I solely read these books because I like the stories and admire the ingenuity of the people who have the gift to create such stories. But what has that to do with any of this? What's your point? My literary preferences surely have nothing to do with the little creature that just appeared out of nowhere hear a few moments ago!'

He gave her a moment. He wanted her to focus on him and not be distracted by her wound up feelings because of his opinion on her books. When he was sure he had her undivided attention again, he said softly.

'What if I told you that dragons do exist?'

For a moment she just stared at him. She didn't know what to say. Was he making fun of her? Trying to trick her somehow? But his face was serious, no hint of humor in his eyes. Just seriousness and honesty.

'What do you mean, dragons do exist?'

'I mean what I said. Dragons are not creatures of fiction. They live and breath and walk this earth like you and me.'

She just looked blankly at him.

'What you see here, the place you have come to with me and myself. We are hidden from you. We live away from you because you feared us so much in the past that it was safer for us and yourselves to remove ourselves from your consciousness. We do not exist in your understanding of the world. Dragons, giants, unicorns… and wizards and witches. I am a wizard, Sophie. I was born with the ability to use magic. I can create and destroy, I can change and vanish all things I see. I can manipulate the elements and all things alive and dead. To you my abilities are beyond anything you could have ever imagined. But they are real.'

He had his gaze fixed on her. He needed to know her first reaction. He needed to see whether she would be repelled by who he was or whether she was maybe willing to get to know this side of him.

But there was no reaction.

Sophie looked at him for a long moment. Then she looked down at her hands and exhaled slowly as if a great weight had just left her. Then she raised her head and looked at him with a smile.

'Good.'

Good? Good! What did she mean by "Good"? And what was good anyway? How could she say "good?" It was Severus time to be astonished and shocked. And it must have shown on his face for her smile kept getting wider and wider.

'Haha, Severus! Why are you staring at me like that? You look as if you had just been hit by a bus.'

Severus didn't know what to say to this.

'You… Good? What do you mean by "good"? What is good?'

It was his turn to become agitated. Sophie noticed and hurried to explain.

'It's good. I mean, obviously ... how shall I say this. I don't pretend to understand all of what you have just told me. But… you know...I have known for a long time that there were things you didn't tell me about yourself. And all of the strange things that happened last night and today… it's all so weird. But you have shown me enough trust to tell me something that was clearly very difficult for you to say. And I am glad about that. It's good.'

She smiled at him. He still couldn't believe it.

'Sophie, did you hear what just said? I am a wizard.'

'Yes.'

'Yes? What yes?'

'Yes, I heard you.'

'And?'

'And what?'

'That is it? That is all your reaction? I am a wizard! Do you understand? All the fairy tales and stories you have been told as a child, all the legends and the myths, even your stupid books, they all have a core that is true. Something you never believed in. Do you understand?'

She looked thoughtful for a moment.

'Not quite yet. But I'm sure I will. But I will be asking lots of questions, so prepare to answer them.' She smiled sweetly at him.

'I will want to know everything about this.' She gestured vaguely at the room at large.

He just stared at her again. How could she… why was she not scared? Or appalled? Why did she not question his sanity? Or tell him to get a check-up by the doctor's?

'You look shocked?'

'I … I am.'

'My reaction was not what you had expected?'

'No.'

'What did you expect?'  
'Well… for one I did not expect you to remain so calm…. I … I guess I expected you to question my sanity…'

'Ha, I was tempted for a moment to do so', she said, 'but then I saw your eyes. Your face. You were so serious. Then I knew you meant every single word you said…. And you know, it … it somehow fits.'

'What fits?'

'What you said… a lot of things happened that didn't make sense. The way these men attacked us. The way they bound you just by pointing a stick at you. The way you were suddenly lifted into the air… and the nails… the nails that appeared out of nowhere and then…'

She shuddered and looked away. He quickly moved to her side and put an arm around her. She continued with an unreadable smile.

'Magic is an improbable explanation. And if you had said these words to me yesterday, I would have felt compelled to call for help for you. But today, after everything I have seen, it doesn't ...no, it doesn't surprise me.'

She looked at him so calmly and so composed. Could it be? Could it really be that she was willing to accept him with his magic?


	47. Chapter 47

If it was Sophie's declared will to accept Severus' explanation, it was not so for her family. As soon as she had translated what he had said, a long and, to Sophie, tiring discussion ensued, at times varying between calls for an immediate return home, for calling in "the authorities" or declaring Sam a maniac and everybody else involved as completely insane. Sophie tried her best to calm the waves and she was surprised at herself. She did manage to remain calm and patient most of the time. Only after her uncle had declared for the hundredth or so time that he wanted to go home and her cousin had called her crazy for getting involved with a man she hardly knew and how this had all led to them being in this situation in the first place, did she have enough. She stood up, put her hands on her hips and glared at them angrily. She spoke quietly and with so much venom in her voice that Severus was quite startled. He had not imagined her capable of such a reaction.

The room went quiet and Sophie sat down again breathing heavily. He saw the tears of frustration in the corner of her eyes as he addressed her.

'They resent magic then?'

He had expected it. They were muggles after all and why should they behave any different from how they always behaved when they found out there was more to the world than what their eyes could perceive?

'No, it's not that,' she answered heavily, 'they don't even believe you are telling the truth. They think you are lying.'

She didn't even dare to look at him.

'And why did you yell at them?'

'Because they were calling you a liar and because they are…. oh… they are just so stubborn and …. so narrow minded!'

The anger was back in her voice again. Severus marvelled at how readily she was defending him. She had positioned herself against her family and had sided with him! How was that possible? She was a muggle too after all. But he also knew it would not remain that way once she knew the entire story.

'So… you believe me?', he asked tentatively.

'Why would I not. You have no possible reason to lie to us.'

'So what have you said to them?'

'Well, they wanted to leave and I said we couldn't leave because those people would come back. They didn't want to believe that, said that we should call the police. They refuse to acknowledge that we are dealing with something that is out of our depth. In spite of everything they saw.'

'They are scared.'  
'Yes… Well, I told them we were going to stay here tonight. But… but I don't think they are very happy with me … or with you.'

Severus gave a mirthless laugh.

'Don't worry, I'm well used to that.'

'But I want them to like you, to accept you. I want us all to be a family.'

He was silent for a moment before he asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he had first declared he was a wizard.

'Sophie, I told you I'm a wizard…'

'Yes.' A note of impatience was creeping into her voice.

'You are Christian.'

'Yes.'

'So… will you expect me to give up magic?'

'What? No. Why should I do that?'

'The bible calls for people like me to be burned alive.'

She looked at him for a moment. Severus could not read her expression but he felt his muscles tense up. A lot would depend on her answer now. He knew her faith was very important to her.

'Sam… or Severus. Is it OK if I call you Severus? Somehow that name fits you a lot better than Sam.'

He looked astonished again.

'Uhm… yes.'

'So Severus, as far as I remember, the verse you are quoting is written in the old testament. I am a Christian. The word means I am a follower of the anointed one, of Jesus Christ. And as such I believe in what Jesus tried to teach us. Jesus' command to us was not to burn witches and wizards. Jesus' only command to us was to love the Lord our God and to love our neighbour like ourselves. And that's what I believe in, that is the reason why I am a Christian. Because I think above all differences we are all God's children and we should all love and respect each other. So no, I will not call for you to be burned at the stake because you are doing… well I don't know what it is you're doing. Pulling bunnies out of hats?'

He looked at her and his heart felt like taking off and soaring high into the fluffy clouds of happiness and joy. But he told it to quieten down again and to wait. This wasn't over yet.

'And if you found out that… that I have done terrible things in my past?' He steeled himself and continued, 'If for example, you found out that I used to torture people and… and that I am a murderer?'

And there it was. Her face faltered. For the fraction of a second only but still, he had seen it. She would not forgive him. He was sure.

'What do you mean? I can't possibly imagine you could ever do something like that,' she said with a smile.

Severus took a long breath.

'I was young and … and certain circumstances made me join a group of dark wizards and witches. Magic, it's not always good, you know? It can be used for evil purposes, it can be used to hurt and to kill. And back then one wizard had made a name for himself in those Dark Arts. It was his declared intention to subject all other magical and none magical creatures under his rule. He called himself the Dark Lord. He noticed me. And young and foolish as I was, I felt flattered by the attention of someone so powerful.

He promised me power beyond anything I could imagine. And I believed him. He saw my talents and my abilities and gave me the opportunity to prove myself to him. I became one of his followers. And, since my field of expertise was potions, I was the best at extracting information from… uncooperative sources.'

He took a deep breath. He was not used to speaking so long anymore since he had left the classroom behind.

'I was young. But that is no excuse. I tortured and then… then I left these people to his other beasts, those of his followers who enjoyed causing pain to the helpless. I turned away from it, making myself believe it was their own fault. I refused to see the true nature of it all because I wanted so badly to be what he had promised me to be. Powerful. Lording it over others and having them lick my boots'

He spoke of himself with so much loathing. But it was what he felt. He was aware that Potter, McGonagall and the others were hanging onto his every word.

'He was starting to build up a veritable crowd of followers. He became a force to be reckoned with. People started disappearing, others acted strangely, people of influence and in position to affect changes were suddenly passing regulations that made it all the easier for him to put his plans into action. And no one could stop him. Or so we thought. But there was someone who was not cowed by his ruthlessness. Albus Dumbledore was probably the most powerful wizard of our age and the only one the Dark Lord feared. Back then he was headmaster of this school and he founded a secret society that made it their goal to stop the Dark Lord.

I was sent to gather information. I had only just finished my education here at Hogwarts and still had a lot of contacts in the village below the castle. One source told me of a meeting and I went to spy on it. I gathered some truly important information but I did not know that this information would in the end cost the life of my one and only friend.

I had known her from our childhood days. Her name was Lily. We had grown up in the same place. I had known from the start that she was also magical. We came to Hogwarts together but while I sunk lower and lower into the Dark Arts, Lily made it clear that she was not going to tolerate that. She ended our friendship. She never knew...never knew that actually I had … felt more for her. She married James Potter, a man I hated with all my heart. They had a son. And it was this son the Dark Lord had decided to kill because of the meeting I had overheard. When he announced his plan it was immediately clear to me that Lily was not going to just stand by and watch her only child being murdered. It was just not like her.

So I … I begged for her life. He said he would spare her if she stepped aside. But that would not happen, I knew her too well to expect that. I was … I knew if he ever found them, she would die. Still I kept begging. Until he'd had enough and made it clear to me once and for all that his decisions were not to be questioned.'

He was silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts.

'The scars on your back?' Sophie quietly asked.

Severus nodded slowly.

'Yes. It was a clever piece of dark spell work, that. He cursed me, slashing my back open, criss cross like a bloody pork roast. I tried to heal it. But I soon found out that the curse sat deep. Everytime I displeased him, all he had to do was utter the word and my scars would open up again as if they had just freshly been inflicted.'

McGonagall and Potter exchanged surreptitious and astonished looks at that. Of course. They had never known about the curse...and his amount of suffering whenever he had had to take Dumbledore's misleading information to the Dark Lord. It had been his favourite punishment for Severus when the plans build around this information had turned into nothing. Not even Albus himself had known about it though. Severus had been too proud to let him know. His thoughts returned to the story he was telling, to Lilly.

'I knew after that night that there was no way to save Lily apart from one. I needed to make the enemy aware of the danger she was in. So I arranged a meeting with Dumbledore. He did not hide that he thought me the lowest of human existence. I offered anything he would ask for in return for his promise to protect her. And that sealed my fate. He made me his spy within the ranks of the Dark Lords followers. I took on a job here as a potions teacher and so my closeness to Dumbledore was never suspicious. The Dark Lord in fact thought I was well placed to gather information here, while in truth I was spying on him. But Dumbledore didn't keep his side of the bargain.'

He was looking down at his hands.

'A close friend of Lily and James betrayed them. The Dark Lord...he found them and...he killed them. Both. Lily...Lily died as I had expected her to die. Trying to protect her child. But the boy survived.'

He took another breath. Again it became obvious to Sophie how hard it was for him to talk about this and she wondered if he had ever told anyone this story before.

'For a while the Dark Lord was gone. Some even believed he was gone for good. But Dumbledore was not so easily fooled. He made me stay here and made me promise to help him protect the boy. I did. Out of shame, out of guilt, I don't know why, really. But I agreed. And when the Dark Lord returned it started all over again. The lies, the deceptions… and that feeling that whenever I left the castle I was never quite sure whether I would see it again. I lived expecting to die any day. And as if that wasn't enough yet, that old bugger also made me promise to kill him.'

'What?'

He smiled. But it looked more like a grimace to Sophie. She could see the pain that was lying underneath.

'He had managed to get himself cursed. A slow and awfully dark curse it was. He was withering away before our very eyes. His limbs were blackening and dying although still attached to his body. It would have been a slow and painful way to die. So he made me promise that I would kill him. Preferably in a way that would protect the students of this school and benefit my position within the ranks of the followers of the Dark Lord. And so one night, while the school was under attack by some of these followers, I killed him in their plain view. With my own wand. I spoke the words and...and ...he fell. Down that tall tower you saw from the outside. He stood no chance...he was dead before he hit the ground.'

He looked down at his hands again.

'He begged me. Begged me to do it, you know. But in that moment … it was so hard to tell. Did he really mean it? Or did he...I had to make a decision. And I knew the Death Eaters were standing right behind me...Sometimes I think if I had been a braver man, I would have turned around and fought them instead...but to what end? He would have died anyway. And he would have died in pain and ...and only a shadow of the great wizard he had been. So I try to tell myself that I made the right choice. That it was what he had asked of me...but ...but I so wish he had never said those words.'

He was silent. His hair was hiding his face from her view so she could not see the tears that were glistening in his eyes. And he did not want her to see them. He felt raw and torn. If the old scars on his back had opened up again he couldn't have felt worse. The pain he had tried so hard to bury for so many years was back, hitting him like a truck, leaving him with a huge weight on his chest of which he had no idea how to remove.


	48. Chapter 48

**Sorry for the delay everybody. Took me a while to get this right. And I was a bit lost on how to continue. But now the path is clear before me again and I hope you will like the next few chapters I will be uploading for you in the next few weeks. Cheers all for reading! And if you like it, leave me a review. x**

'It wasn't your fault.', a soft male voice said from across the room.

'He asked it of you. He should never have done that. Of course he should never have done that. I mean, you were friends and he…'

Severus gave a sardonic snort.

'Friends? I was his pawn. Just like you, Potter. We were the figures he shifted about on his chess board. That's all. And no mistake.'

'No.' Minerva interjected.

'Yes! And if you ever believed anything else, Minerva, then you are deluding yourself!'

'No, Severus.'

Severus was rising. But Sophie pulled him down again. Angrily he looked away.

'Severus, he really did care.'

'Oh yeah, right. '

'Yes, he did.'

'And how would you know that? Did he come to you at night when he couldn't sleep, plagued by his own consciences because his overly large ego had taken one of its very few and brief rests and he was finally able to see what he was doing to all of us?'

'Severus, stop being so cynical.'

'Ha! What? Minerva, life itself taught me to be cynical. I never had anything else left but being cynical or I should certainly have gone insane in this place.'

'Severus,...'

'No, spare me. I don't want to hear it.'

He made to get up again.

'Severus Tobias Snape! You will sit down now and listen to what I have to say!'

She had brought out her best teachers voice and sternest expression and Severus involuntarily felt himself sink back onto the couch.

'Albus Dumbledore was a schemer. I agree. But you must not for one moment believe that he did it out of a sense of superiority. He left that behind a long time ago. He had made some mistakes when he was young, and you of all people should understand that. But he changed. He had promised himself that he would never again get carried away by his "overly large ego" as you called it. And he did care for you.

Oh Severus, boy. If you had just seen how he cried when I told him that you had died. You would not doubt me for a moment. He loved you. And he had recognised your bravery and your nobility before any of us had. He never wanted you hurt or even dead. I believe he thought to the very last moment that his plan would in the end save as many as possible. He knew that sacrifices would be necessary. But he always tried to minimise them ...and you must admit, he was not afraid to put himself on the spot when it was time. He was willing to play his own game and not just sit on the sideline and watch while everybody else took a risk. He could have been a lot more forward about his plan and about what he knew on Voldemort, I give you that. But again, I think he kept it to himself to keep us safe. Won't you believe me?'

Severus looked away. He wasn't sure how to feel. Wasn`t sure about any of this. Today had been such a long and difficult one and it was all threatening to overwhelm him. He needed to be out of this situation. He needed rest and some peace and quiet.

'Minerva, in the end, what does it really matter. He is dead. Voldemort is dead. It's over. Whatever.'

He sounded tired even to himself.

'I will go and lie down for a bit. I'm tired and worn out.'

Hermione piped up from the other end of the room.

'Uh… Sir, shouldn't we ask Mme Pomfrey to look at your hands first? You did say once we were all safe you would let someone heal them properly and… you know...the longer you wait, the more difficult this will be.'

Oh how he hated know-it-alls.

'Miss.. Mrs. Weasley, I can assure you…'

He didn't make it further before Sophie stopped him with a hand on his arm and a very pleading look in her eyes.

'Oh very well, fine then', after a moment's thought he added, 'But why do we need to involve Mme Pomfrey? I was under the impression that you were a fully qualified and trained medi witch.'

Hermione did not meet his eye.

'Well, I am… but my area of expertise are charms and curse related issues. Damages of limbs and such would better be taken care of by Mme Pomfrey… unless of course you would prefer to come to St. Mungo's for treatment?'

'Mrs. Weasley, your feeble attempts at making as many people as possible aware of my survival carry the handwriting of a true Gryffindor: no imagination, blunt, tactless and without finesse.'

Before he could say anymore, Hermione had jumped up with an eager smile and was making her way over to the fireplace. She took a small bowl that had sat on the mantelpiece and took something out of it. She replaced the bowl and threw the contents of her right hand into the fire, which gave a hiss and smoked before the flames became visible again, now a deep shade of emerald green. She then bent down on her knees, spoke to the fire 'Infirmary!', and put her head into the flames!

Sophie started and turned to Severus who was calmly sitting beside her.

'So… I suppose your reaction means this is an everyday occurance here, people putting their heads into green flames?'

Severus smiled but didn't answer with anything more than a lazy nod.

'She isn't hurting herself?

Meanwhile she heard Hermione speak as if there was another person somewhere.

'No, she is fine. It is a way of communication in our world… a bit like a telephone call, really.'

Sophie looked relieved.

'I see. And everybody here uses it? How does it work?'

'Well, you take a pinch of the powder on the mantelpiece, throw it into the flames and clearly state what house or place you want to be connected to. Then you either step into the flames, if you want to travel there, or you put your head in.'

'And?'

'And nothing. You basically hope that you pronounced it clearly enough and don't end up in the wrong place.'

'Doesn't sound like a sure method?'

'Well, magic is not like chemistry or physics. It does have laws and if you know them and apply them correctly, most of it is relatively safe.'

'Relatively safe? That, you know, does not sound very comforting to me.'

He laughed briefly and noticed that he had missed Hermione's conversation in the fire, but he had heard the first word and that was all he needed to know that another emotionally charged reunion was about to take place. Not from his side, mind you, but Poppy had always been more caring than all other female occupants of the castle, probably the reason why she made such an excellent healer. But it would also mean more tears, of that he was sure. He was just about to brace himself when she stepped into the room, white uniform and pristine nursing cap properly pinned in place despite the holiday.

'So which of you has gotten themselves into trouble this time?', she asked turning to the most probable candidates of Weasley and Potter. Harry smiled.

'Hello, Poppy. Oh no, not us this time. Your patient of today sits on the opposite couch'

So first name terms with the nurse as well? He had been gone for a truly long time.

The nurse turned and he met her eyes the same moment she looked at him.

'Poppy, if you think about bursting out in tears or making some stupid apologies, forget it. The first tear I see will be my cue to leave this damn castle!'

She stood there for a moment, gaping at him and he could clearly see the wheels in her head turning. For a moment there was total silence before the nurse took a deep breath, blinked a few times, cleared her throat with an embarrassed little cough and replied.

'Well, of course I shall do no such thing! And now kindly tell me what made you call for my help, I have a ward full of students with the flu to take care of.'

She walked over briskly and took out her wand waiting for his reply. Hermione stepped in to explain.

'Oh, yes, well… Prof. Sn… I mean… Mr. Snape was attacked and they rather seriously injured his hands. I tried to mend them in a provisional sort of way as best as I could since he refused medical attention at that time…'

'Now why does that not surprise me?'

'Well, he agreed to have them properly fixed now, so could you have a look, please?'

Poppy had already gestured for him to hold out his hands and while she was running her wand over them she asked:

'How exactly were they injured?'

'They ran nails through them and pinned me to the wall.'

Poppy stopped her examination and looked up sharply with shock in her eyes.

'Poppy, just ...just check them. I'm sure they are fine.'

He really didn't want her to fuss, he just wanted Sophie's mind put at ease and his bed. Poppy must have sensed his underlying anger.

'Well, Severus, I am happy to see you have not changed one little bit. And if I was ever in doubt whether it really is you, your behaviour to my help certainly proves your identity!'

Ah. That had come out all wrong again. And Sophie's critical look told him she was not happy with his behaviour.

'Poppy...Listen, I'm sorry, but could you just get on with it? It's not that… you know… I know you are good at what you do. I certainly wouldn't have allowed that interfering know-it-all to call for anyone else. And it's good to see you, good to know you are still here at Hogwarts and well. But I'm tired and would really like to be alone with my wife now.'

There now, that should do it.

And really, Poppy's eyes softened almost instantly and she got to work again.

'Married!? Oh, Severus! How wonderful! I am so happy for you. Just imagine that! Here we were all thinking you were dead when really you were out there finally building up the life you had always deserved.'

At that he started.

'Oh, but you did! I never thought hiding away in this castle did you much good. Too many of those dark books about. Enough to drive any young man into the arms of the next dark wizard. No. In my opinion Albus should have never hired you after you had lost Lily.'

Severus clenched his teeth.

'I never "lost" Lily. Simply because she was never mine to lose. And I had this job before she died.'

'Oh but of course you lost her. You loved her. And you were heartbroken when she was gone. And that was the moment when he should have let you go.'

'And you already knew that back then, didn't you?', Severus replied sarcastically, 'why then did you not tell him back then?'

'Oh, but I did!'

Severus looked stunned with disbelief before he answered.

'Rubbish! Nobody knew about my feelings for Lily back then! No one, except Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.'

'And me.'

'Nonsense!'

The nurse smiled.

'No nonsense, Severus. I knew. It was all too obvious. You forget I'm a nurse. And a broken heart leaves its traces all over. Those red rimmed eyes, the dark circles beneath the eyes, the absence of normal healthy appetite for food, … I had an eye on you, my boy. Just like I promised you I would.'

He looked up into her face and was carried back to his first year at Hogwarts when he had been treated in the infirmary for one of the cruel jokes that blasted Potter and his friends had played at him. He remembered how embarrassed he had been when she demanded he stayed the night and gave him a pyjama to change into. And how absolutely mortified he had been when she refused to leave while he changed. She had seen his scars. And she had known immediately. He had looked away, ashamed. But she had not changed her tone or tried to comfort him. He had been profoundly grateful for that. He hadn't wanted her pity not even then. But when she had pulled the blankets up around him she had sat down beside him and gently spoke.

'Your father?'

That was all she had asked. And he had nodded. Her face had changed and he saw that righteous anger there that people, who had never lived in such circumstances, always displayed. The same people who would never understand that he had to deal with this on his own, that nobody could help him with it. She had asked him then whether he wanted her to inform the headmaster, had assured him that they could put a stop to it. But they didn't understand. His mother loved his father. There was nothing that could make her leave him, of that he was sure. And he would not leave her. Of that he was sure also. So he had declined, and to his great astonishment, she had agreed. She had respected his wish. All she had said was:

'Very well then. If that is your choice. But know that I will watch over you. And if you need me, just let me know.'

He had needed her many times after. And she had always been true to her word. But even her behaviour had changed towards him when she thought him truly converted to the dark. Well, he couldn't blame her. For a while she had certainly been right.


	49. Chapter 49

Poppy was through with him in a few moments. It seemed that Hermione had been right. Some of the sinews and ligaments had not mended as they should have. But it was nothing that posed a problem for the long experienced nurse. When she was done and before she turned back to the fireplace she addressed him again.

'I am truly happy to see you so well, Severus. Allow me to say that at least. It is so good to see that at least one we had thought we lost forever, has returned to us.'

'I have not returned. As soon as this...issue… is settled, I shall be leaving the magical world behind again.'

Poppy looked stunned for a moment.

'Why, Severus, I would have never thought you of all people would voluntarily choose to live in the muggle world?'

He shrugged by way of answering. Shaking her head slightly, the old nursing witch made her way back into the fireplace.

Meanwhile Sophie had had another round of arguments with her family. It seemed they were willing to stay here for the moment and were finally coming round to the fact that there were some things in this life that could not be explained with the rules and mindset which they had followed all their lives. Sophie could sympathise with this. She also found it difficult to adapt to the situation: there was magic, that fact alone was beyond anything she could have ever imagined. But for her it was easier because she trusted Severus. And that was something her family did not do. To them he was still a stranger and now someone who had endangered the family. Sophie thought that their reluctance to accept the situation was also partly because they blamed Severus. But that would not make any difference. If she could accept him, magic and all, then they would damn well be able too. After all they loved her.

The idea of the Christmas lunch was abandoned in favour for some much needed rest for everyone. Instead, Minerva suggested a Christmas evening dinner. Harry, Hermione and Ron were all for it; Severus on the other hand was beyond caring. He just wanted to lie down and feel nothing for the next few hours.

And so everybody turned to their allocated rooms, while Harry, Hermione, Ron and Minerva left them to it.

Severus felt a profound sense of relief when he closed the bedroom door behind himself and Sophie. He leaned his back against it and watched as she stood in the middle of the room to take it all in.

'So...is there anything I should know about this room?'

Severus smiled evilly.

'Yes. There is what we call a bed. We lie on it and cover ourselves with blankets and duvets to keep warm. Then we sleep. It's quite comfortable really. Not that you poor muggle would know.'

Sophie turned to him laughing.

'Woah! That was mean!'

He went over and took her into his arms.

'I'm sorry, just couldn't resist.'

He kissed the top of her head.

'Is it really so tedious that I ask all these questions? I mean I know it can't have been easy for you to tell me all that you did tell me today. But …', she pushed herself away a little so she could look up into his eyes, 'I really do appreciate it. And … you know, for the first time I have the feeling you let me see the real you.'

Severus frowned.

'Well, not sure you should be happy about that.'

He let go and turned towards the bathroom. But she stopped him, taking hold of one of his arms and pulling herself into them again.

'You stubborn, stubborn man. When will you believe that I love you?'

She reached up to his face, pulled it gently down to hers and kissed him in that slow, gentle way that always made his heart melt and made his legs feel like jelly.

When he opened his eyes again he looked into her smiling face, the radiance and warmth it showed made him pull her towards himself again. He held her and tried to put all his love and all his longing into this embrace. For a long moment they silently held onto one another until he let go and took a step back.

He didn't dare to look into her eyes as he turned to go to the bathroom or he would have seen the mischievous look they showed.

'Severus?'

It still surprised him to hear his name from her lips. But he found, he liked it. She did not say it with contempt or hatred as he had heard it said so often. It was … what was it? Right now it sounded almost pleading… with a hint of a challenge. What was up? He turned.

'Yes?'

She stood by the nearest bedpost. There was hesitation...embarrassment...she looked to the bed and back at him… as if unsure what to say or do next. Oh dear. No. Not now. He needed… he needed rest. And time to think. And ... and ...just not now. But how to say it? How to say it without hurting her? He could see this was not easy for her but he needed to stop this before she said something that would have to make him reject her openly. Quick, Severus, think.

'I … Sorry, but I really need the bathroom, love.'

Oh Merlin...that sounded… even to his ears that sounded horribly lame.

She looked away at once.

'Sure...you go ahead. You must be really tired.'

There, she had opened the door for him. All he had to do is walk through it. His way out. But why was he so reluctant? He knew without a second thought why. Because he actually wanted nothing more. But it would be foolish to embark on that journey now. He could not afford to be distracted. Not now that Death Eaters were threatening their lives and she had just found out things about him she couldn't possibly understand yet. She still hadn't fully grasped the implications. And it would be unfair and selfish to take advantage of her need for comfort and security. After all, he was sure that was all it was. Although in the back of his head a little voice had started to make itself heard. Maybe she is different. Maybe she really does love me. And maybe she really does want me.

When he returned from the bathroom he found her cuddled up to one of the many pillows on top of the duvet and fast asleep. He smiled. With a quick, silent spell he lifted her up and pulled the duvet down before he gently lowered her back on the bed again. Magically her shoe laces undid themselves and her sneakers came off. But that was the full extent of magic he was willing to use on her at the moment. He crawled into the bed next to her, pulled the duvet up to cover them and snuggled up close to her. Gently he scooped her head onto his shoulder and pulled her into his arms. With her scent in his nose and his face buried in her slowly regrowing hair he closed his eyes. Within seconds he was carried away into oblivion. Later when he woke, all he would remember was a feeling of deep warmth, relief and contentment.


	50. Chapter 50

It was late afternoon when a knock on their door jolted them both awake.

'You go,' was all Severus was willing to grunt.

'Why me?' came the sleepy reply from next to him.

'Because the only people who can knock on this door are the ones we share this apartment with and since they are all your family I don't think you would appreciate what I would like to do to them for waking me up.'

He heard a quiet chuckle and felt how the duvet on her side was thrown back. When she opened the door it was her mother.

'Are you awake yet?'

'No.'

'You have slept almost six hours now, if you keep on sleeping you will not be able to sleep later this night.'

'Yes, mother.'

'So will you get up now?'

Sophie pulled her inside the room and closed the door behind her.

'Mum, what's wrong?'

Her mother looked around for a moment and then her face changed from embarrassment at being caught to resolve. She took a deep breath and explained.

'Your aunt. She is driving me nuts. When I got up to use the bathroom I found her sitting on the couch in the sitting room. She said she can't sleep and she can't rest. She has been complaining for hours now saying how worried she is, how this place gives her the creeps, how Sam... I mean.. What's his name now?'

'Severus,' came a deep rumble from the direction of the bed. For a moment her mother looked shocked until she seemed to remember that her daughter was now a married woman.

With more embarrassment she continued.

'Well, she said Severus is scaring her and what we would do if those people should find us here. And and and… Sophie, I truly cannot stand it anymore. Please come outside and sit with us.'

Her pleading was genuine and Sophie felt somewhat guilty, after all it was her husband's situation that had brought them here. She sighed.

'Yes, sure. I will just go and have a shower and then join you in the sitting room. Don't worry, Mum. She is probably suffering from shock after everything we went through last night.'

Her mother nodded in agreement.

'Yes, but you know what she is like.'

With that she turned and left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

'If you think that I will get up to go out there and hold your aunt's hand while she keeps complaining, you will find yourself woefully mislead,' came another grumble form the bed.

Sophie smiled and sat on his bedside. She leaned down over him and pulled the duvet a bit down to have easier access to his head. She gently pressed a kiss on his cheek.

'I never said I expected you to do that, my love. You should stop jumping to conclusions.'

He could hear the laughter in her voice. He felt himself smile too.

'Good. Cause I wouldn't. Just so you know.'

He heard her laughing outright now.

'I know, my love. I know. But I love you anyway.'

Another peck on his cheek and he heard the bathroom door close behind her.

When she emerged from the bedroom, she found her aunt and mother sitting on the long couch opposite the fireplace together. She was just about to join them when there was a knock on the door. Sophie was startled. Not because it was a loud knock. More because it seemed to have just the right strength to be heard without being aggressive or annoying. For lack of a better word, Sophie would have described it as "polite" had she not still been too preoccupied with her thoughts on why Severus had rejected her advances earlier.

So without thinking too much about the fact that she was in a foreign country, in a foreign and magical place and had been attacked some 12 hours before by a horde of wizards, she went over to open the door.

She was met with the sight of a man that seemed to just have come off the set of a period tv drama. He was tall, dressed in a black, patterned velvet frock coat, a black silk vest and an immaculate white silk shirt tied with a grey cravat, which was pinned with a silver serpent. In his hand he held a black wooden walking stick of which the handle was silver too, but Sophie could not make out the shape that was hidden underneath his right hand. His left hand was resting in a fist on his hip and his posture spoke of arrogance and old-fashioned manners. But it was his eyes which drew most of Sophie's attention: cold grey rested in a perfectly symmetrical face framed by white blond hair and a grey blond Van Dyke-style beard.

She must have stared for too long at this unexpected sight because before she could say anything the face of the man took on an impatient and reluctant expression as he said:

'Is this the way to welcome guests these days at Hogwarts? My, what has this place come to, I wonder'

His pronunciation and inflection confirmed Sophie's impression of arrogance but she was too gentle in spirit to take offence so quickly.

'Oh, I am sorry. How may I help you?'

'Well, first of all it would be helpful to know why I have been summoned here.'

'I'm afraid, there must be a mistake. Maybe it is the headmistress McGonagall you wish to see? Although… I could not tell you where to find her since I am not familiar with the castle myself.'

'Good Merlin, no. I would certainly not have come if that old bat had called. I was asked to meet someone here.'

'Who?'

'Well, I don't know. I was given the impression I would be expected.'

'Why don't you come in for a moment and we will try to sort this out. What is your name by the way?'

'My name is Lucius Malfoy.'

He said it in such an aloof way as if the name should have been familiar. But the name sounded so strange to Sophie that she felt it rather hard not to start giggling. She managed to smile politely and stepped aside to let him pass before he could detect anything.

He walked into the sitting room and positioned himself by the mantlepiece of the fireplace. Again displaying a posture as if Jane Austen was a personal acquaintance of his.

While her mother and aunt were eyeing the newcomer suspiciously from the couch and Mr. Malfoy was ignoring them, Sophie was trying to think of what to say.

'Ahem… can I offer you some tea?'

'No, thank you.'

'Would you like to take a seat?'

She moved over to the couch to introduce her family but the man just took one look in their direction and gave a cold answer.

'No.'

Well… so much for good manners.

'Well, why don't you tell me what made you think you were expected here?'

The man heaved an exaggerated sigh, looking to the ceiling as if life always gave him the hardest of all tasks.

'My son asked me to come here. He asked that I should help a mutual friend. Though he did not say who that friend was. He claimed he was too short of time to elaborate but I am beginning to think that was just a ruse.'

'Who is your son? Ron Weasley?'

The man's eyes grew wide for a split second before his face turned into an ugly sneer and he answered coldly.

'Are you trying to insult me?'

Sophie was a bit surprised at that outburst. Apparently this man was not a friend of Ron's.

'No… I just tried to understand who your son is. The only man of an age to be your son, of who's background I know nothing and who knows that we are here, is Ron. So he was the only logical person I could think of.'

That seemed to placate the man a bit. He was still speaking to her as if she was a bother though.

'My son's name is Draco Malfoy.'

He said it again as if it should be common knowledge.

'Uh… sorry, I have never heard that name before.'

Again he looked to the ceiling.

'Maybe you should tell me who you are and we might come closer to solving this ridiculous situation.'

Just in that moment the door into the apartment opened again and Ron, Hermione, Harry and another young woman whom Sophie had not yet met, came in.

'Hello! We didn't want to wake …'

Harry stopped short when he came in view of the man by the fireplace.

'Mr. Malfoy. What are you doing here?'

His tone was suspicious and made the alarm bells in Sophie's head go off. Maybe she should go and wake Severus?

'Mr. Potter.'

He said it slowly, clearly pronouncing every single syllable.

'What are you doing here?'

Harry repeated and slowly stepped between him and Sophie. That must have aroused the older man's curiosity for he suddenly looked at Sophie with new interest.

'Uh.. Harry?'

It was Hermione speaking up from next to Ron.

But before Hermione could say anymore, Sophie felt how she was pulled back from behind. A tall frame pushed itself in front of her and she recognised Severus.

'What are you doing here?' came a menacing hiss. 'Leave this instant. I will not give you a second chance.'

He held his wand and pointed it at Malfoy who was looking for once lost for words. He stared. Lucius Malfoy stared and if it hadn't been for his good breeding, he would have done so with his mouth wide open.

'Have you gone deaf? I told you to get out of here!' Severus voice rose.

Sophie came out from behind him and put a hand on his arm. But this time he shook it off and pulled her behind him again.

'Severus!'

'Stay there.'

'But..'

'I said stay there,' he roared.

'Hey! Would you stop yelling at me? What the hell has gotten into you?' Sophie was shouting back now. The shouting brought forth all the remaining members of her family and within seconds the entire room was in upheaval. Everybody was shouting and trying to be heard but nobody seemed to be listening. Meanwhile Lucius Malfoy was still staring at Severus, who was still pointing his wand at him staring right back.

Harry at last managed to quieten everybody down. He wanted to interrupt this silent staring match so he turned to Malfoy once more.

'Now, Mr. Malfoy, would you kindly explain your presence?'

But Malfoy would not take his eyes of Severus.

'So,' he said in his customary lazy drawl, 'you survived.'

It was more a statement, he didn't really seem to expect an answer. His expression was unreadable. Sophie could not have said whether he was angry or whether he would surrender and walk out. He stood there by the fireplace, unmoving. But if Severus was unnerved by that, he didn't show it.

'Yes, I did. Anything else you want to know?'

'I can hardly imagine what you must have gone through since that fateful night. You must have felt desperate, in need to resort to extreme measures...such as associating with …muggles.'

He raised his eyebrows. He knew well that he was provoking Severus, that much Sophie could tell. He was deliberately goading him. But for what reason, Sophie did not understand. Severus on the other hand just gave a condescending smile.

'Oh, Lucius, no. You are mistaking the situation. I simply felt overwhelmed by the stench I had exposed myself to for the first thirty odd years of my life. I couldn't bear it anymore. But what about you? I am surprised I should find you free. I would have expected you in a cell, rotting away and losing the bit of brain that you possess to the Dementors.'

Malfoy snorted and for a moment, his carefully constructed mask of calm and indifference slipped and his eyes were blazing with anger.

'This world has changed, Severus. Azkaban is no longer guarded by Dementors. And I …I paid my dues. More than enough. So don't you come here after twenty years judging me. I did what I had to, to survive and to protect my family.'

At this Severus gave a mirthless laugh.

'Protect your family? You were pissing your pants, more like, whenever the Dark Lord came near you.'

Lucius turned beetroot red and was about to answer when Hermione interjected.

'Uhm… just a moment. I have a feeling this is all going very wrong here. Mr. Snape, I asked Mr. Malfoy to come here.'

'No, you didn't you little m…'

'Don't you dare say that word!' Severus roared.

'Oh, I am sorry. I forgot it hurts the feelings of our oh so beloved hero!' Malfoy sneered.

Severus stepped closer and Malfoy drew his wand so quickly Sophie hadn't even seen him move his hand.

'Come on then, Severus. Time to settle some things.'

'Oh, I couldn't agree more.'

'Stop!'

Sophie stepped in between them. Severus looked ready to explode.

'Stand aside. Now, Sophie.'

'Oh, has it come so far already, Severus? Needing to hide behind a Muggle?' taunted Malfoy. Severus was about to raise his arm when Sophie began to shout.

'That's quite enough now, both of you! Aren't you ashamed of yourselves? Two grown-up men behaving like little children fighting in the school grounds? You, Sir, came here uninvited and lost not a moment of time to insult my husband after admonishing me for my manners? Pray tell what kind of manners do you display attacking someone in their own living room? And you, Severus, I would have expected more of you. Don't you see that he was deliberately goading you? Are you so easily manipulated when somebody attacks your pride? That is truly pitiful!'

She took a shuddering breath and looked angrily from one to the other. They were both still facing each other. For a moment the situation seemed frozen, and it was uncertain how it would resolve. Everybody was very aware that this could go both ways. Either they would attack each other, and the hatred in both their eyes was enough evidence that mercy would not be given from either side, or they would take heed of Sophie's words and let sense prevail. In the end it was Severus who made the first move. Stung by Sophie's words he lifted up his hands and demonstratively returned his wand into his sleeve. Malfoy tried not to look too astonished and then followed suit, pushing his wand back into his walking cane but not without giving a reluctant grunt as if he was so sorry that it hadn't come to a confrontation.

'Now, may I know who told you to come here?'

Sophie asked in a calm voice turned to Malfoy.

'As I said before. My son asked me to come here. But rest assured, if I had known who was waiting for me here, I certainly would not have come.'

'And have you considered that that may be exactly why your son was so secretive about whom he wanted you to meet?', Sophie asked impatiently.

'But how would Draco know that I am here...unless…' Severus said turning to the golden trio.

'What you're looking at me for?' Harry asked in astonishment. 'I mean, it's not like Malfoy and I are meeting every saturday night down at the pub. I don't even remember the time I last saw him.'

'Yeah, us neither,' Ron said confidently.

But he did not see the sheepish expression on his wife's face, which Severus was now commenting with a raised eyebrow.

'Mrs. Weasley, care to enlighten us?'

Ron laughed.

'I just said, we haven't seen him in ages either.'

'Uhm… Ron…'

'Maybe you're getting just a little too paranoid in your old days, Snape.'

'...Ron…'

'I mean, I get it, you never liked us, but honestly, isn't it enough already?'

'Roooonnnn.'

'We are not responsible for all that goes wrong, you know.'

'For Merlin's sake, Ronald Weasley!'

'What?'

'Would you kindly stop speaking in my name.'

'But...I mean, it's really just like it always has been. Something is fishy and he's blaming us.'

'He might have a reason.'

Ron looked dumbfounded for a moment.

'Why would he have a reason?'

'I asked Draco for help.'

'You did what?'

Ron exclaimed and looked at his wife incredulously.

'Why did you do that? We have no dealings with Malfoy. We don't need him to figure this out.'

'Goodness, Ron, grow up! If anyone might have heard something going on it's going to be Malfoy, isn't it?'

'Excuse me, I am still in the room.'

'Sorry, Mr. Malfoy. My husband sometimes needs things spelled out to him.'

'But why would you… that guy has never been anything but rude to you.'

'Well, that's not exactly right.'

'What do you mean?'

Again Hermione looked like she would rather be flying a broom in an international quidditch match than having this conversation.

'I ...Well, you see, a few months ago I was on duty at St. Mungo's and Draco came in with Scorpius who was not well at all. The staff in the magical accident ward did all they could but the boy wasn't getting better. He saw me in the cafeteria by chance and then caused such a racket and demanded that I took Scorpius over...He shouted at the head healer that his son would not be treated by the incompetent amateurs that the head healer had put on the case. He wanted that I was assigned to Scorpius or there would be hell to pay.'

'Sounds just like Malfoy to bully people into having his will.'

That remark earned Ron an angry look by Malfoy senior but Hermione already continued.

'Well, to be honest, he was really upset and worried about Scorpius and I was actually somewhat touched that he thought I was the best person for the job.'

Hermione turned slightly pink.

'Anyway, it took me some time but in the end I figured out what it was. Scorpius had been cursed with a dark spell. Draco was really relieved and ...well, you know...he is not all that bad.'

'And what is that supposed to mean now?'

'Well, he was ...just very happy I managed to heal his son. He is not nearly as arrogant as he used to be…he was actually so grateful for what I had done. And so...so...sometimes when he is in town… we meet for lunch.'

'You what?'

Ron looked ready to burst, his face was had gone so red.

'You meet that git for lunch? Hermione, are you still sane? That guy made your teeth grow. You punched him in the face cause he is such an asshole and now you're meeting him for lunch!?'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'See, that's exactly why we didn't tell anyone. For Merlin's sake, Ron. We are all grown-ups now. Malfoy isn't that boy in school anymore, you know.'

'No, but he is still a Malfoy.'

'For once I must agree with Weasley, and trust me, I never thought I would say that,' Malfoy interjected. 'But as lovely as this little anecdote is, could you please explain why I am here? I cannot be late, you see. I have to meet my son and... uhh...thank him… for this little surprise.'

Hermione already felt sorry for Malfoy. She hadn't meant to get him into trouble. She just wanted to tell Malfoy about the Death Eaters. But it was Harry who spoke next.

'Wait a moment, Hermione. You said Scorpius was cursed with a dark spell?'

'Yes...it wasn't quite as complex as the one that hit Albus…' Hermione went quiet, her eyes opening wide almost to the size of tea saucers.

'Oh sh…!' she exclaimed. 'Why hasn't that occurred to me?'

Severus too was on the case already.

'What exactly do you remember about this curse?'

'It was … it definitely had a different pattern to the curse that hit Albus…that's probably why I didn't make the connection in the first place. But there was something…it was very complex and it seemed somehow…old…just like the one that Albus was suffering from. An old and very dangerous dark kind of magic.'

'Could anyone explain to me what this has to do with my grandson and why in the name of Merlin I am here?'

Malfoy senior seemed close to losing his patience again. Severus realized what Hermione had had in mind and even though he was reluctant to accept Malfoy's help, she might be right. If he still had connections to other Death Eaters, of which Severus was almost certain, he might have heard things or even more. And if he could be made to understand that his grandson had been used in some way by these people, he was equally certain they could obtain the information without having to resort to more unpleasant means.

'One of Potter's spawns was attacked by some dark wizards. Apparently their aim was for him to contact me so that I might heal the boy and thus, by trailing him, finding out where I was.'

'Potter knew you were alive all these years?'

'No, but someone must have suspected my alter ego to be me and since a complex potion was required in the healing process, there was a good chance Mr. Potter, in his incomparable headstrong way, would personally try to get me to cooperate. And thus, doing the job for them by using his skills to track me down.'

'And why would that involve Scorpius?' Malfoy asked puzzled.

'That would be for you to answer, Mrs. Weasley.'

'As I have said already, Scorpius was cursed by a very old and, at least to us, unknown curse. It took a lot of research and some sleepless nights to put together a charm that could lift the curse. After that we needed to treat the effects, which were quite severe by themselves. But he is a brave little fellow and he was very cooperative, so we managed to release him soon after.'

Hermione was smiling at the memory of the blond haired little boy that had been so different in his behaviour and his manners that what Draco had been at school.

'You sound like he was a cute little angel,' Ron looked ready to sulk.

Malfoy senior on the other hand looked ready to curse Ron.

'He is a dear boy. Very unlike Draco when he was a child, no offence Mr. Malfoy. He is not a bit the spoiled little prince he could well be if you see how Draco is doting on him. On the contrary, a lot of the times I had the impression he was suffering greatly but wouldn't say because he didn't want to worry his Dad.'

Ron looked astonished.

'We are talking about a Malfoy here, right?'

'RON! Just a moment ago you were complaining about Snape not being able to let go of the past. Now listen to yourself! I mean… let us all listen to ourselves. I get it, it's hard to let go of the past, but if we want to catch these new Death Eaters, maybe it's time we all left the past behind and unite our knowledge and our abilities. Because if these guys are really on the rise again and we don't stop them in time, who knows, they may be too much to handle this time. And I don't think anyone of us wants these dark days to return. At least, it's the last thing I want.'

'Wait a moment. What do you mean by new Death Eaters?' Malfoy asked.

'The people who came up with this plan to find me, they are Death Eaters….at least that's what they called themselves.'

'That's impossible.'

'Is it?'

'Of course it is. I know …well… .' Malfoy's look changed from disbelieve to uncomfortable reluctance when he looked over to Harry and the other two.

'Oh, go on Mr. Malfoy. Didn't you just listen what I said? It is so important we find out who these maniacs are. I mean, they curse children! They cursed your grandson!'

'You have no proof for this.'

'If what Mrs. Weasley says about the curse is true, I would bet, it was the same people who cursed Albus Potter. And if you think about it, attacking your grandson makes even more sense.'

'Why would that be?'

'I am the godfather of Draco. If he needed help for his child and knew I was still alive, he would do anything to engage my help. His demand for Mrs. Weasley's assistance is proof of that. So, if they assumed I was alive, which they must have in order to develop such an elaborate plan to make me reveal myself, the obvious connections to use in this world were Draco and Potter. They used Draco first, probably thinking if anyone would still be in touch with me, it would be the Malfoy family. But after their plan with Scorpius failed, they could not repeat it without arousing suspicions, so they waited for a while before they tried the same thing with Potter's son.'

Malfoy stared at him.

'You are saying somebody deliberately attacked my grandson in order to find you?' His face was turning slightly red again and his eyes blazed once more.

'Who?' he asked with a deadly voice.

'They attacked me in my…new home. They said, they had been ordered to take me to their new leader so he could teach me a lesson for betraying the Dark Lord. They called me a traitor and all that… and one or two names were mentioned that sounded familiar. They were the sons of Death Eaters I had known, but they called themselves Death Eaters too.'

'That's ridiculous! Whoever is behind this obviously has no idea about… I mean…'

'They don't know what it meant to be a true Death Eater. I agree. Also, none of them showed me a mark or just so much as mentioned anything particular about the Dark Lord that only a true Death Eater could have known. To me, it seemed more like child's play, as if they were just impersonating the hero's that they believed their parents to have been.'

'Well, I wouldn't call it child's play. I mean, they nailed you to a wall,' interjected Hermione.

Severus smiled.

'Mrs. Weasley, trust me, if they had been true Death Eaters they would not have nailed me to a wall. That was far too easy.'

'Easy?'

'Yes… First of all, true Death Eaters would have turned on my family first. Then they would have used a lot more magic to hurt me. The hurt they inflicted was by using none magical objects such as nails. No cruciatus, no mind addling, nothing of the sort a true Death Eater would have done. They were bad imitations at best.'

Malfoy was thinking out loud.

'So someone is trying to make it look like the Death Eaters are active again? But why?'

Severus shook his head.

'I think someone IS trying to bring the Death Eaters back. And not just make it look like they are coming back. The idiots they send after me could not have come up with such a complex plan themselves. Neither of them had an ounce of the intelligence needed for this. Someone is behind them and I think he or she is trying to create a reputation in order to, for one, make it known that the Death Eaters are not gone and still to be reckoned with and also to gather those that have been disappointed by the failure of the Dark Lord and convince them that they are the better and the new leader.'

'You mean a new Dark Lord is on the rise?' asked Harry.

'Yes, I think that is a very real possibility. And with this in mind I was the perfect victim. The traitor, of whom no one knew that he survived did not escape the new Dark Lord's justice. A strong symbolic act and a demonstration of power.'

Silence followed this comment.

Everybody still vividly remembered the last Dark Lord and none of the magical people gathered in that room cared very much for a repeat of those days and the feeling of fear, loss and pain they all connected with them.


	51. Chapter 51

**Sorry, I discovered a few mistakes in the story. Put that right now. Thanks for your feedback everybody!**

Severus' assumptions on Malfoy had been correct, however.

'I will not have anyone attack my family, new Dark Lord or not. Whoever is behind this will pay.'

'A commendable notion, Malfoy. But did you hear anything of use? Any rumors at all?'

Malfoy looked at him suspiciously.

'Malfoy, if you think it is a clever idea to take on this new Dark Lord all on your own, be my guest. I will just lean back and watch how you draw them out of their burrow. And once they got rid of you, which is what they will do undoubtedly if you do this alone, I will know who they are and take them out myself.'

'Oh, and you think you can take them on alone when you tell me I couldn't? Don't you think your getting ahead of yourself a bit here, Snape?'

'Not at all, Lucius. Of the two of us I was always the better wizard, and you know it.'

Malfoy looked ready for a verbal match now, but Harry interjected.

'Well, how about none of you is doing this alone? I mean, after all my son was attacked too. And Ron and I are Aurors...so…'

'No,' came the reply from both man in unison.

'I can perfectly well handle this, Potter. And I certainly don't want an Auror present when I get my hands on them.'

'I agree. This matter should be taken care of in a discreet manner. And as far as I remember discretion has never been your forte, Potter.' Malfoy waved his blond hair back and strode over to the door.

'I will make some enquiries. I will get in touch as soon as I have news. Will I find you here?'

Severus sneered.

'Looks like I'm stuck here for the time being, so yes.'

'But, maybe you should really let Harry help,' Hermione tried to interject.

Unexpectedly Sophie took Hermione's side as well.

'Severus, I expect you to work with Harry and his friends.'

'You what? Excuse me? Maybe you should leave this in my hands.'

'I think..'

'You have been here for all of a few hours, Sophie. You know nothing of this world or of the underlying …'

'You listen to me now, Severus Snape: I don't give a damn about anything underlying. It was your choice to keep these things from me and as a result I and my family spent a night watching you being nailed to a wall and fearing for our own lives as well. So don't you tell me I know nothing about this. You will do this together with Harry and his friends and you will enlist any other help that is offered to you because I have absolutely no desire for our next meeting to take place in a morgue. You are my husband, you are no longer free to waste your life as you please. Do you get that? And besides, Harry is right. His son was cursed as well and he has every right to want to find out who did this to him. Or would you let anyone stop you from bringing the person to justice that attacked your child? I think not, or I should be very much mistaken.'

Severus could positively feel Malfoy sneering at him behind his back. But Sophie had displayed a new kind of resolute determination, that made it hard for him to argue. Especially because she was right.

'Fine then,' he said reluctantly, 'Malfoy, Mr. Potter is on the team.'

Malfoy sighed dramatically.

'Maybe you should leave your wife at home next time you come visit. Might make you seem more like a man again.'

'That from the man who has his clothes selected by his wife every morning?'

While Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous and sniggering glances, Malfoy turned a bright shade of pink before turning to the door and slamming it behind himself.

'Right, what next? Any damn figure of my past you still want to expose me to? Why did you not invite Rita Skeeter while you were at it?'

Severus had rounded on Hermione and was looming over her with the very same expression she had had to endure for so many years in his classroom all that time ago. He was angry that Sophie had embarrassed him in front of Malfoy but since her reasoning was sound he needed to let his anger out on someone else. And since it was Hermione who had brought Malfoy here he felt justified in letting her know what he thought of her meddling. Involuntarily Hermione shrunk back and for a moment she was lost for words. He still managed to do that with people, she thought. He still had that presence and that superior behaviour that made you feel like a stupid little child. Ron was coming up beside them.

'Hey, Snape, she was only trying to help. You could be a little more thankful, you know.'

'It is Mr. Snape to you… _Mister_ Weasley.'

Severus was staring hard at him.

'Severus, I'm sure Hermione meant well. And, if it's true and Mr. Malfoy can help us to find out who's behind this, isn't it for the best?'

'Yes, but as I said, I would like to know what else she has in store. Is there anyone else whom you have told about me?'

'No. Really. No one. Except…'

'Yes?..'

'Well, Minerva, she ...uhm… she organised a little Christmas party for you all. And ..uhm… she invited some people,' Hermione finished lamely.

Before anyone could say anything else, Severus was crossing the room to get to the door. But he never needed to head out in search for Minerva, for by the time he reached it, the flames of the fireplace turned green and the very woman in question stepped out dressed all in tartan christmas colours.

'Merry Christmas everybody. I have taken the liberty to arrange a little Christmas Dinner for you all, seeing as your own celebration was somewhat frustrated by that Death Eater filth. So if you would like to follow me I will lead you to a cosy room that has been perfectly set by our houselves.'

'Liberty indeed.'

'Pardon? Was there anything you wanted to say, Severus?'

'Who did you invite to attend this little christmas do of yours apart from the people here present?'

'Only a few people who would benefit from knowing you are still alive.'

'And who exactly is that?'

Severus was just about to launch into a long tirade about how she dared to reveal him to people that don't matter to him at all, but he didn't get a chance, as Minervy quickly continued.

'Severus, it has not been an easy time right after the war. We have lost many and many suffered greatly. Yes, we won and yes, the Dark Lord was defeated. But for many it all came at a very high price. To know that you are still alive, that you survived...someone of whom we learned was such a great and unknown hero, it would help them to get over it, don't you see? Scars in their souls that will itch a little less and wounds that will close a little tighter. Isn't that worth it?'

'Have I not been selfless enough?' retorted Severus angrily.

'Have I not suffered enough for others to survive? And now, again, you demand that I should make others feel better when it is my life and the lives of my family that you are putting at risk here. Don't you see? The more people know I am alive, the more ex-Death Eaters will feel that their time for revenge has come. We will not be safe anymore!'

'But Severus, if those people were indeed Death Eaters, then their entire network will already know that you are still alive. Wouldn't it be better that the people you can rely on to help you should know as well?'

'Rely on to help me? As if…'

'Of course we will help you,' Potter chimed in happily from the side, 'after all that you have done it is the least we can do to help protect you and your family. And besides, I could have been a target for Ex-Death Eaters revenge fantasies as well, but my popularity made it as good as impossible for them to reach me. So there is a certain protection in fame.'

'Oh yes, Potter, very clever. It's just that they attacked your little son instead.'

Potter looked down for a moment.

'There will never be a 100 percent certainty. But you could also cross the road and get run over by a lorry. Will you stop walking on a street because of that?'

'Potter:..'

'Enough now. Severus, your survival is no longer a secret, whether you like it or not. With the appearance of these Death Eaters at your home your secret is out. It would be a smart move to activate old contacts and networks to ensure support and you know that. So stop grumbling now, put on a brave face and follow me downstairs. The evening won't last forever and surely you can manage to say "Hello" to a few familiar faces.'

The headmistress put an effective end to the argument and marched to the door.

'Come along everybody, the feast is waiting!'

She took them on a short route to a circular room, which looked to Sophie to be located in one of the towers. A fire was burning merely in a fireplace, a large table had been placed in the centre and decorated with silver wine goblets, shiny white china plates and silver cutlery. Candlesticks were holding white, green and red candles, holy was draped along the table and a christmas tree stood at the far side of the entrance by one of the windows, it's light giving off a soft glow and contrasting with the fading light of the white and grey winter landscape beyond the window.

Sophie felt enchanted as a huge smile started to spread on her face. Christmas time was one of her favourite times of the year and this setting was just like out of a christmas fairy tale. Severus saw her face bright and happy. Oh what the hell. He would meet the devil personally and celebrate christmas with him if that's what made her happy. He could deal with whomever Minerva had invited. A small house elf with very flappy ears appeared beside the fireplace which was located to the right of the big table.

'May Slinky serve some eggnog to anyone?'

It showed a huge toothy grin, obviously hoping it would increase the interest in the eggnog. While Sophie went forward enthusiastically, her aunt wrinkled her nose and went to the other side of the room to look out the window where she soon was joined by her husband, her son and his wife. Sophie couldn't help but notice the rift that had been caused in her family. She knew her parents would stand by her but she felt too tired and exhausted to try and win over her aunt and her family. They had never liked Severus much, his acerbic, no nonsense way to say what he thought sometimes had that effect on people. Sophie decided if they wanted the family to remain a family, they should show it somehow. She would leave them to their own musings for now and see if in time they would warm to this world or not.

Eggnog went round and soon the door opened and a swarm of little children came rushing in and went straight for the christmas tree. Harry and his wife, whom he had introduced earlier as Ginny, chased their sons and daughter away from the tree and admonished them for not wishing Minerva a Merry Christmas before descending on the presents she had arranged under the tree for them.

They were followed by Hermione who was telling off her daughter for the same reason when the door opened again and an elderly woman in knitted garments came bustling in followed soon after by a tall, lanky and largely bald man.

'Minerva! It is so good to see you, thank you so much for the invitation. What a treat to celebrate christmas here in the castle. Merry Christmas!'

The two women hugged and the tall man was standing behind her beaming when his eyes went round the room. He stopped smiling however when his eyes fell on the tall black figure with the slightly curled long black hair and the black beard. For a moment he starred hard his eyes narrowing down to slits until recognition set in and they opened wide in disbelief and surprise.

'By the wand of merlin, is it possible? Is it really possible?'

He went over and stood right before the man he had believed dead for nearly twenty years.

'Arthur? Arthur, what is it? Oh, he is getting on in years, you know. Just a bit strange at times.'

Molly turned apologetically back to Minerva before seeing how her husband hugged a completely bewildered stranger, clapping his back continuously while saying:

'Good man… good to see you, old chap! Good man!', with tears in his eyes.

Harry and Ron were grinning at each other while Hermione was trying to control her tears.

'Arthur, whatever are you doing? This poor man, you can't…'

She went over to free the man from Arthur's obviously unwelcome attentions when she took a first closer look at him.

'You can't… I mean, you can't just… Merlin help us!'

She gave a shriek to accompany her exclamation and then quickly covered her mouth with both her hands before throwing herself about the midriff of the man that had just been released by Arthur Weasley.

'Oh… oh you live! You live! Oh Merlin, you live!'

She was crying in earnest now. Severus was being even more uncomfortable with the stout Weasley matriarch around him than he had been with Arthur. At least Arthur's hug had not been quite so tearful. He shot a menacing look over to Minerva who stood there beaming in her best imitation of Albus Dumbledore's maddening grin. Oh, he would get back at her for this.

When Molly had calmed down a little everybody seated themselves and more eggnog was served. Severus helped himself generously, he had a feeling this evening would only be bearable with a lot of alcohol.

The next time the door opened a whole crowd of people entered. There was George, Percy and his wife Penelope with their children, Bill and Fleur with their beautiful daughter, Charlie with his wife and children, Teddy Lupin and last to enter was Hagrid, who had some difficulties making it through the door.

'Goodness me, did you agree to all come at once?'

Minerva had raised herself from her seat and went over to greet everybody. She was quickly followed by Molly who was doing her best to hug all her grandchildren without leaving anyone out. There was quite a lot of noise when Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione joined in while Arthur was trying to find out from Severus where he had been all these years. He had turned to Arthur to better hear him so his back was turned to the newcomers at the door. Nobody noticed him at first until Hagrid gave a roar.

'You? You! You are dead! Harry said so. He saw ya die! What are ya doin' 'ere?'

Everybody had gone silent and were staring at Hagrid. Harry gingerly stepped forward.

'Uhm, Hagrid…don't forget he was told to do what he did. Alright? He only followed Dumbledore's orders.'

'Dumbledore's orders my arse! 'e murdered 'im!'

'No Hagrid, he did not. And now sit down and celebrate Christmas with us.'

'But headmistress…'

'I will have no argument on this here. Tonight we have the great fortune to see one of our heros of the great war risen from the dead. It is a reason to celebrate and be merry, not to argue over the finer points. Do you understand?'

Hagrid glowered in Severus' direction who had risen to not be caught unawares.

'What is all this about, anyway? Who are we talking about here?' George asked into the room at large.

'See for yourself, little brother,' Charlie said smiling and stepping to the side so George had a clear view of Severus. George's jaw dropped on the sight.

'Holy shit…'

'George Weasley, don't you dare use such language in front of your nieces and nephews!'

'Snape!'

They looked at each other for a moment. Severus wasn't quite sure what to make of this reaction. Would he attack him? Would he try to hug him as his father had done? None of it was a very appealing reaction in Severus' view. And why was nobody else moving?

'So you survived?'

It was more a rhetorical question which obviously did not require an answer so Severus just shrugged his shoulders as he had done before and kept quiet.

'You… was there anyone else that survived? Anyone else we know nothing about or we believe dead?'

There was a terrible desperation in his voice. For a second it surprised Severus until he remembered that Harry had told him about Fred while he had attended little Albus.

'Dear, no. You know he is gone. You saw him. We all saw him. He is dead, George.'

Severus was grateful that Molly tried to remind George, he wasn't sure how he should handle the situation. But George was not so easily put off.

'Yes...yes of course. I'm sorry. I was just thinking… maybe if there was a secret survivalist group or something...but no. You are right. We ...we all saw him…'

Another pause in which everybody was looking around in an embarrassed manner.

Finally George went over to Severus and held out his hand.

'Well… It's good to know you made it. Welcome back.'

Severus was rather relieved by this reaction.

'Thank you.'

He wasn't sure what he should say. It was almost twenty years ago. But he if anyone understood that loss was a wound which needed its own time to heal, than it was him.

'I was sorry to hear about your brother. I…,' he was searching for something to say that would be credible coming from him but at the same time demonstrate his understanding of George's pain.

'You two were a right menace as students. I cannot recount the detentions I gave you. But I was impressed by your creative approach to magic and I heard many Death Eaters complain about your skills.'

This was high praise coming from Snape. An George knew it. He rapidly blinked a few times before continuing the conversation.

'So,uh…, how did you manage to survive?'

'To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I awoke in a small cottage and decided I had enough of the wizard world. I withdrew into the muggle world.'

'You? An Ex-Death Eater? You left the magical world?'

George sounded so incredulous that it almost made Severus smile.

'Where better to hide for an Ex-Death Eater as you called me?'

'But… but why did you hide at all? I mean… why… you had nothing to fear. Harry gave evidence of your innocence. Of how you acted only on Dumbledore's orders.'

'Which not everybody is takin' at face value…' grumbled Hagrid from behind.

Severus shrugged again.

'I was wounded and had no way of finding out how the tides stood. I left and realised that I had no desire to return.'

It was short but still more than he had been willing to disclose. His sympathy for George was undoubtedly responsible for this uncharacteristic frankness.

'Well, I guess we all had our own ways of dealing with what we went through. I'm sorry if you felt you didn't want to be part of our community anymore. I guess the chicks would have thrown themselves at you left and right had you been here after Harry revealed your story,' George said with a wicked grin and clapped him on the shoulder. And with that it seemed the dam had been broken. The remaining members of the Weasley clan gathered around and shock his hand while Hagrid still kept back and stood by the door, obviously not certain whether he should try and strangle Snape or just leave.

Harry went over to his giant friend.

'You still don't believe he did it on orders?'

Hagrid harumped but made no further comment.

'Hagrid, he really didn't want to do it. He was on our side all along. And … you know somebody tried to poison little Albus, don't you?'

'What?' roared the half-giant.  
'Yeah, some lunatics calling themselves the new Death Eaters poisoned him. Snape came out of hiding to cure him. He revealed himself to save my son. They found him then and tortured him, threatened to kill his entire family. All because he wouldn't let little Albus die. You see, he is really not an evil man.'

Hagrid looked down at Harry thoughtfully. He wasn't sure how he should feel about all this. It had been easy when he had believed Snape to be dead. He did not have to think about how much had actually been show and how much was real when it came to Snape. But now that was different. Here he was, standing right in the middle of the room being applauded as a hero when it had been his wand that had send Dumbledore over the battlements into his death. How should he feel about such a man? He knew he wasn't the smartest or cleverest of people, but he had always had an unfailable sense of what was right and what was wrong. Severus Snape blurred these lines and for now that was too much for him to consider. He decided to change the subject.

'What do you mean by new Death Eaters, Harry?'

Harry explained in detail what had happened while everybody else was taking their seats around the long table.

When Harry had finished and the feast was being served they too took their seats and joined in the delicious meal. Although Hagrid made sure to sit as far away from Snape as possible.


	52. Chapter 52

Severus' assumptions on Malfoy had been correct, however.

'I will not have anyone attack my family, new Dark Lord or not. Whoever is behind this will pay.'

'A commendable notion, Malfoy. But did you hear anything of use? Any rumors at all?'

Malfoy looked at him suspiciously.

'Malfoy, if you think it is a clever idea to take on this new Dark Lord all on your own, be my guest. I will just lean back and watch how you draw them out of their burrow. And once they got rid of you, which is what they will do undoubtedly if you do this alone, I will know who they are and take them out myself.'

'Oh, and you think you can take them on alone when you tell me I couldn't? Don't you think your getting ahead of yourself a bit here, Snape?'

'Not at all, Lucius. Of the two of us I was always the better wizard, and you know it.'

Malfoy looked ready for a verbal match now, but Harry interjected.

'Well, how about none of you is doing this alone? I mean, after all my son was attacked too. And Ron and I are Aurors...so…'

'No,' came the reply from both man in unison.

'I can perfectly well handle this, Potter. And I certainly don't want an Auror present when I get my hands on them.'

'I agree. This matter should be taken care of in a discreet manner. And as far as I remember discretion has never been your forte, Potter.' Malfoy waved his blond hair back and strode over to the door.

'I will make some enquiries. I will get in touch as soon as I have news. Will I find you here?'

Severus sneered.

'Looks like I'm stuck here for the time being, so yes.'

'But, maybe you should really let Harry help,' Hermione tried to interject.

Unexpectedly Sophie took Hermione's side as well.

'Severus, I expect you to work with Harry and his friends.'

'You what? Excuse me? Maybe you should leave this in my hands.'

'I think..'

'You have been here for all of a few hours, Sophie. You know nothing of this world or of the underlying …'

'You listen to me now, Severus Snape: I don't give a damn about anything underlying. It was your choice to keep these things from me and as a result I and my family spent a night watching you being nailed to a wall and fearing for our own lives as well. So don't you tell me I know nothing about this. You will do this together with Harry and his friends and you will enlist any other help that is offered to you because I have absolutely no desire for our next meeting to take place in a morgue. You are my husband, you are no longer free to waste your life as you please. Do you get that? And besides, Harry is right. His son was cursed as well and he has every right to want to find out who did this to him. Or would you let anyone stop you from bringing the person to justice that attacked your child? I think not, or I should be very much mistaken.'

Severus could positively feel Malfoy sneering at him behind his back. But Sophie had displayed a new kind of resolute determination, that made it hard for him to argue. Especially because she was right.

'Fine then,' he said reluctantly, 'Malfoy, Mr. Potter is on the team.'

Malfoy sighed dramatically.

'Maybe you should leave your wife at home next time you come visit. Might make you seem more like a man again.'

'That from the man who has his clothes selected by his wife every morning?'

While Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous and sniggering glances, Malfoy turned a bright shade of pink before turning to the door and slamming it behind himself.

'Right, what next? Any damn figure of my past you still want to expose me to? Why did you not invite Rita Skeeter while you were at it?'

Severus had rounded on Hermione and was looming over her with the very same expression she had had to endure for so many years in his classroom all that time ago. He was angry that Sophie had embarrassed him in front of Malfoy but since her reasoning was sound he needed to let his anger out on someone else. And since it was Hermione who had brought Malfoy here he felt justified in letting her know what he thought of her meddling. Involuntarily Hermione shrunk back and for a moment she was lost for words. He still managed to do that with people, she thought. He still had that presence and that superior behaviour that made you feel like a stupid little child. Ron was coming up beside them.

'Hey, Snape, she was only trying to help. You could be a little more thankful, you know.'

'It is Mr. Snape to you… _Mister_ Weasley.'

Severus was staring hard at him.

'Severus, I'm sure Hermione meant well. And, if it's true and Mr. Malfoy can help us to find out who's behind this, isn't it for the best?'

'Yes, but as I said, I would like to know what else she has in store. Is there anyone else whom you have told about me?'

'No. Really. No one. Except…'

'Yes?..'

'Well, Minerva, she ...uhm… she organised a little Christmas party for you all. And ..uhm… she invited some people,' Hermione finished lamely.

Before anyone could say anything else, Severus was crossing the room to get to the door. But he never needed to head out in search for Minerva, for by the time he reached it, the flames of the fireplace turned green and the very woman in question stepped out dressed all in tartan christmas colours.

'Merry Christmas everybody. I have taken the liberty to arrange a little Christmas Dinner for you all, seeing as your own celebration was somewhat frustrated by that Death Eater filth. So if you would like to follow me I will lead you to a cosy room that has been perfectly set by our house elves.'

'Liberty indeed.'

'Pardon? Was there anything you wanted to say, Severus?'

'Who did you invite to attend this little christmas do of yours, apart from the people here present?'

'Only a few people who would benefit from knowing you are still alive.'

'And who exactly is that?'

Severus was just about to launch into a long tirade about how she dared to reveal him to people that don't matter to him at all, but he didn't get a chance, as Minervy quickly continued.

'Severus, it has not been an easy time right after the war. We have lost many and many suffered greatly. Yes, we won and yes, the Dark Lord was defeated. But for many it all came at a very high price. To know that you are still alive, that you survived...someone of whom we learned was such a great and unknown hero, it would help them to get over it, don't you see? Scars in their souls that will itch a little less and wounds that will close a little tighter. Isn't that worth it?'

'Have I not been selfless enough?' retorted Severus angrily.

'Have I not suffered enough for others to survive? And now, again, you demand that I should make others feel better when it is my life and the lives of my family that you are putting at risk here. Don't you see? The more people know I am alive, the more ex-Death Eaters will feel that their time for revenge has come. We will not be safe anymore!'

'But Severus, if those people were indeed Death Eaters, then their entire network will already know that you are still alive. Wouldn't it be better that the people you can rely on to help you should know as well?'

'Rely on to help me? As if…'

'Of course we will help you,' Potter chimed in happily from the side, 'after all that you have done it is the least we can do to help protect you and your family. And besides, I could have been a target for Ex-Death Eaters revenge fantasies as well, but my popularity made it as good as impossible for them to reach me. So there is a certain protection in fame.'

'Oh yes, Potter, very clever. It's just that they attacked your little son instead.'

Potter looked down for a moment.

'There will never be a 100 percent certainty. But you could also cross the road and get run over by a lorry. Will you stop walking on a street because of that?'

'Potter:..'

'Enough now. Severus, your survival is no longer a secret, whether you like it or not. With the appearance of these Death Eaters at your home your secret is out. It would be a smart move to activate old contacts and networks to ensure support and you know that. So stop grumbling now, put on a brave face and follow me downstairs. The evening won't last forever and surely you can manage to say "Hello" to a few familiar faces.'

The headmistress put an effective end to the argument and marched to the door.

'Come along everybody, the feast is waiting!'

She took them on a short route to a circular room, which looked to Sophie to be located in one of the towers. A fire was burning merrily in a fireplace, a large table had been placed in the centre and decorated with silver wine goblets, shiny white china plates and silver cutlery. Candlesticks were holding white, green and red candles, holy was draped along the table and a christmas tree stood at the far side of the entrance by one of the windows, it's light giving off a soft glow and contrasting with the fading light of the white and grey winter landscape beyond the window.

Sophie felt enchanted as a huge smile started to spread on her face. Christmas time was one of her favourite times of the year and this setting was just like out of a christmas fairy tale. Severus saw her face bright and happy. Oh what the hell. He would meet the devil personally and celebrate christmas with him if that's what made her happy. He could deal with whomever Minerva had invited. A small house elf with very flappy ears appeared beside the fireplace which was located to the right of the big table.

'May Slinky serve some eggnog to anyone?'

It showed a huge toothy grin, obviously hoping it would increase the interest in the eggnog. While Sophie went forward enthusiastically, her aunt wrinkled her nose and went to the other side of the room to look out the window where she soon was joined by her husband, her son and his wife. Sophie couldn't help but notice the rift that had been caused in her family. She knew her parents would stand by her but she felt too tired and exhausted to try and win over her aunt and her family. They had never liked Severus much, his acerbic, no nonsense way to say what he thought sometimes had that effect on people. Sophie decided if they wanted the family to remain a family, they should show it somehow. She would leave them to their own musings for now and see if in time they would warm to this world or not.

Eggnog went round and soon the door opened and a swarm of little children came rushing in and went straight for the christmas tree. Harry and his wife, whom he had introduced earlier as Ginny, chased their sons and daughter away from the tree and admonished them for not wishing Minerva a Merry Christmas before descending on the presents she had arranged under the tree for them.

They were followed by Hermione who was telling off her daughter for the same reason when the door opened again and an elderly woman in knitted garments came bustling in followed soon after by a tall, lanky and largely bald man.

'Minerva! It is so good to see you, thank you so much for the invitation. What a treat to celebrate christmas here in the castle. Merry Christmas!'

The two women hugged and the tall man was standing behind her beaming when his eyes went round the room. He stopped smiling however when his eyes fell on the tall black figure with the slightly curled long black hair and the black beard. For a moment he starred hard his eyes narrowing down to slits until recognition set in and they opened wide in disbelief and surprise.

'By the wand of merlin, is it possible? Is it really possible?'

He went over and stood right before the man he had believed dead for nearly twenty years.

'Arthur? Arthur, what is it? Oh, he is getting on in years, you know. Just a bit strange at times.'

Molly turned apologetically back to Minerva before seeing how her husband hugged a completely bewildered stranger, clapping his back continuously while saying:

'Good man… good to see you, old chap! Good man!', with tears in his eyes.

Harry and Ron were grinning at each other while Hermione was trying to control her tears.

'Arthur, whatever are you doing? This poor man, you can't…'

She went over to free the man from Arthur's obviously unwelcome attentions when she took a first closer look at him.

'You can't… I mean, you can't just… Merlin help us!'

She gave a shriek to accompany her exclamation and then quickly covered her mouth with both her hands before throwing herself about the midriff of the man that had just been released by Arthur Weasley.

'Oh… oh you live! You live! Oh Merlin, you live!'

She was crying in earnest now. Severus was being even more uncomfortable with the stout Weasley matriarch around him than he had been with Arthur. At least Arthur's hug had not been quite so tearful. He shot a menacing look over to Minerva who stood there beaming in her best imitation of Albus Dumbledore's maddening grin. Oh, he would get back at her for this.

When Molly had calmed down a little everybody seated themselves and more eggnog was served. Severus helped himself generously, he had a feeling this evening would only be bearable with a lot of alcohol.

The next time the door opened a whole crowd of people entered. There was George, Percy and his wife Penelope with their children, Bill and Fleur with their beautiful daughter, Charlie with his wife and children, Teddy Lupin and last to enter was Hagrid, who had some difficulties making it through the door.

'Goodness me, did you agree to all come at once?'

Minerva had raised herself from her seat and went over to greet everybody. She was quickly followed by Molly who was doing her best to hug all her grandchildren without leaving anyone out. There was quite a lot of noise when Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione joined in while Arthur was trying to find out from Severus where he had been all these years. He had turned to Arthur to better hear him so his back was turned to the newcomers at the door. Nobody noticed him at first until Hagrid gave a roar.

'You? You! You are dead! Harry said so. He saw ya die! What are ya doin' 'ere?'

Everybody had gone silent and were staring at Hagrid. Harry gingerly stepped forward.

'Uhm, Hagrid…don't forget he was told to do what he did. Alright? He only followed Dumbledore's orders.'

'Dumbledore's orders my arse! 'e murdered 'im!'

'No Hagrid, he did not. And now sit down and celebrate Christmas with us.'

'But headmistress…'

'I will have no argument on this here. Tonight we have the great fortune to see one of our heros of the great war risen from the dead. It is a reason to celebrate and be merry, not to argue over the finer points. Do you understand?'

Hagrid glowered in Severus' direction who had risen to not be caught unawares.

'What is all this about, anyway? Who are we talking about here?' George asked into the room at large.

'See for yourself, little brother,' Charlie said smiling and stepping to the side so George had a clear view of Severus. George's jaw dropped on the sight.

'Holy shit…'

'George Weasley, don't you dare use such language in front of your nieces and nephews!'

'Snape!'

They looked at each other for a moment. Severus wasn't quite sure what to make of this reaction. Would he attack him? Would he try to hug him as his father had done? None of it was a very appealing reaction in Severus' view. And why was nobody else moving?

'So you survived?'

It was more a rhetorical question which obviously did not require an answer so Severus just shrugged his shoulders as he had done before and kept quiet.

'You… was there anyone else that survived? Anyone else we know nothing about or we believe dead?'

There was a terrible desperation in his voice. For a second it surprised Severus until he remembered that Harry had told him about Fred while he had attended little Albus.

'Dear, no. You know he is gone. You saw him. We all saw him. He is dead, George.'

Severus was grateful that Molly tried to remind George, he wasn't sure how he should handle the situation. But George was not so easily put off.

'Yes...yes of course. I'm sorry. I was just thinking… maybe if there was a secret survivalist group or something...but no. You are right. We ...we all saw him…'

Another pause in which everybody was looking around in an embarrassed manner.

Finally George went over to Severus and held out his hand.

'Well… It's good to know you made it. Welcome back.'

Severus was rather relieved by this reaction.

'Thank you.'

He wasn't sure what he should say. It was almost twenty years ago. But he if anyone understood that loss was a wound which needed its own time to heal, than it was him.

'I was sorry to hear about your brother. I…,' he was searching for something to say that would be credible coming from him but at the same time demonstrate his understanding of George's pain.

'You two were a right menace as students. I cannot recount the detentions I gave you. But I was impressed by your creative approach to magic and I heard many Death Eaters complain about your skills.'

This was high praise coming from Snape. An George knew it. He rapidly blinked a few times before continuing the conversation.

'So,uh…, how did you manage to survive?'

'To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I awoke in a small cottage and decided I had enough of the wizard world. I withdrew into the muggle world.'

'You? An Ex-Death Eater? You left the magical world?'

George sounded so incredulous that it almost made Severus smile.

'Where better to hide for an Ex-Death Eater as you called me?'

'But… but why did you hide at all? I mean… why… you had nothing to fear. Harry gave evidence of your innocence. Of how you acted only on Dumbledore's orders.'

'Which not everybody is takin' at face value…' grumbled Hagrid from behind.

Severus shrugged again.

'I was wounded and had no way of finding out how the tides stood. I left and realised that I had no desire to return.'

It was short but still more than he had been willing to disclose. His sympathy for George was undoubtedly responsible for this uncharacteristic frankness.

'Well, I guess we all had our own ways of dealing with what we went through. I'm sorry if you felt you didn't want to be part of our community anymore. I guess the chicks would have thrown themselves at you left and right had you been here after Harry revealed your story,' George said with a wicked grin and clapped him on the shoulder. And with that it seemed the dam had been broken. The remaining members of the Weasley clan gathered around and shock his hand while Hagrid still kept back and stood by the door, obviously not certain whether he should try and strangle Snape or just leave.

Harry went over to his giant friend.

'You still don't believe he did it on orders?'

Hagrid harumped but made no further comment.

'Hagrid, he really didn't want to do it. He was on our side all along. And … you know somebody tried to poison little Albus, don't you?'

'What?' roared the half-giant.  
'Yeah, some lunatics calling themselves the new Death Eaters poisoned him. Snape came out of hiding to cure him. He revealed himself to save my son. They found him then and tortured him, threatened to kill his entire family. All because he wouldn't let little Albus die. You see, he is really not an evil man.'

Hagrid looked down at Harry thoughtfully. He wasn't sure how he should feel about all this. It had been easy when he had believed Snape to be dead. He did not have to think about how much had actually been show and how much was real when it came to Snape. But now that was different. Here he was, standing right in the middle of the room being applauded as a hero when it had been his wand that had sent Dumbledore over the battlements into his death. How should he feel about such a man? He knew he wasn't the smartest or cleverest of people, but he had always had an unfailable sense of what was right and what was wrong. Severus Snape blurred these lines and for now that was too much for him to consider. He decided to change the subject.

'What do you mean by new Death Eaters, Harry?'

Harry explained in detail what had happened while everybody else was taking their seats around the long table.

When Harry had finished and the feast was being served they too took their seats and joined in the delicious meal. Although Hagrid made sure to sit as far away from Snape as possible.


	53. Chapter 53

Sophie enjoyed the feast. The food was delicious and although she at first had great reservations when told the preferred beverages in wizard company were something called butterbeer and elfwine, she tried them. She was pleasantly surprised by both: the sweet creaminess of the butterbeer which tasted a bit like liquid fudge, just a lot more liquid, and the intense and strong elfwine with its flowery scent and taste.

She found the people to be just as fascinating. They spoke English and in some moments they seemed so utterly British that they could have just come off a British daily soap. But in the next moment they said or did something which left Sophie wondering whether she had landed on a different planet. The magical community seemed to have developed an independent culture with its own code of behaviour. It would be so interesting to learn more about it all. Sophie suspected that a lot of things about Severus would start to make sense in the future.

The children were not kept at the table for long and soon delighted squeals and laughter were filling the room as they unwrapped their presents. The warm flames in the fireplace, the lights in the christmas tree and the snow piling up on the window sill outside all painted a picture of cosy winter happiness. This is how Christmas should be, thought Sophie with a sudden drowsiness. If she hadn't slept that afternoon she would surely just fall asleep now and probably end up with her face in the christmas pudding. That would have been a shame and also dangerous as little christmas pudding for the adults at the table suddenly appeared and was on fire in the next moment. Blue, orange flames flickering merely and adding to the warm smell the delicious aroma of rum and raisins. Oh, this just couldn't get any better.

She noticed that especially Mr. Weasley made every effort to draw her parents and her aunt and uncle into a conversation. Her cousin was translating for them. They still looked somewhat uncomfortable but at least they seemed to enjoy that somebody showed interest. And, what was even more important, they seemed to relax a bit. Maybe they would come round in the end.

The empty desert plates were replaced with sweet wine and cheeses on beautifully arranged large plates in the middle of the table and soft music started to play in the background. Sophie looked for the source of the music but couldn't make it out. She turned to her husband to ask him for it and found a small boy standing right beside him on the other side while he did his best to ignore the insistent stare of the child.

'Severus, I think your attention is wanted there.'

She knew his reluctance to interact with children, but this could prove fun. First, though, he threw her a very nasty look.

'Thank you, dear, I really hadn't noticed.' Then he turned to the boy.

'So what do you want?'

'Do you remember me, it's Albus, Harry Potter's son.'

So this was the child that had been poisoned thought Sophie. He looked very sweet. Although she was sure just like every boy he would hate to be told that. He had half long black hair and startling green eyes that seemed to take in the world around with a detached sort of interest.

Severus rolled his eyes upwards and was about to give , in his mind, a suitable reply when he felt an elbow in his side. He found Sophie giving him a warning look. Oh well, he would have to bear with it then.

'Even though I am sure I must seem ancient to you, I can assure you that my memory is so far not ailing me.'

He had tried to keep his tone as neutral has he would ever manage with a Potter, well aware that Sophie on his other side was listening very closely. The boy looked unperturbed, so he guessed he hadn't been too acerbic. Which of course also ment that he was going to have to deal with him instead of just being rid of him.

'I was wondering if you could explain to me how the curse worked that did this to me, sir.'

'I don't think you would understand, it is somewhat complicated.'

'I asked Aunty Hermione but she could only explain it so far. I understand that the asphodel was used as an agent but I have read that asphodel is very resistant when it comes to dark magic, which is why it is so popular as a magical agent in the first place. Straytham states very clearly in his text on asphodel in apothecarian guide to magical agents that it is basically impossible to use it for dark magic.'

Severus eyebrows shot up into his hairline and Sophie couldn't stop the smile spreading on her face. This little guy was just teaching Severus a lesson on children. She loved it!

'You read Straytham? How did you come by this text in the first place?'

The boy looked somewhat uncomfortable and checked whether anybody else was listening in before he said: 'Well, I sort of came across it in Aunty Hermione's library…'

'And does she know you are using her library?'

'Uhhm… she … well… they think I don't understand what I'm reading anyway so they don't really mind.'

He shrugged and while doing so looked like a perfectly innocent little angel.

Severus turned his head to Sophie for a moment and she could see he was trying very hard not to smile himself. When he had composed himself again he turned back to the boy.

'I must stress that I think you are far too young to be left on your own in a potions library, especially given you recent experiences. I will therefore talk to your aunt and advise her not to leave you unaccompanied in her library again.'

The boy looked downcast. His hero had just effectively closed his haven of peace and knowledge for him!

'However, seeing as you seem to be so interested I will also advise her to give you proper guidance, however limited by her abilities that may be.'

At that the boy suddenly picked up again. He had often wanted to ask questions but never dared since he thought if they found out that he understood so much more than they thought they would not let him near the books again. But if Snape intervened on his behalf, maybe he had a new way to learn.

'So … the asphodel. It is true that it is widely believed it carries only light magic… with the intention to heal. However, the curse we located in you was very cleverly crafted. I contained multiple layers, which, first of all, allowed it to move around your body, or at least create the impression it was doing so for I for once do not believe that spells, curses or hexes can deviate so far from their intentions as some would suggest. It would mean that these curses could develop something akin to an independant understanding, allowing them to make decisions of their own…'

'But Forthstone says in his encyclopedia magica that it is not impossible in his view to create magic with a degree of independent thought or a rudimentary level of understanding…'

'Forthstone also believes the merpeople could be disabled offsprings of the inhabitants of ancient Atlantis. He is a dimwitted idiot and you'd do well not to give to much credit to texts that bear his name.'

'But couldn't they be?'

'What?'

'Descendants of Atlantis?'

'Boy, for a moment you had me thinking you were intelligent.'

The boy looked ashamed.

'I just thought… I mean.'

'The merpeople are an independant breed; no connection to other current beings, animal or human, is traceable. The closest you can trace their development to is a fish that lived thousands of years ago. Forget Forthstone. If you want magical theory at a credible level I suggest Molineux Fontaine. Now the curse, as we have established before your untimely interruption, had multiple layers which afforded it with the ability to create what I believed to be images in different areas of your body, thus creating the impression that it was moving.'

The boy looked surprised and intrigued at the same time.

'You mean it was always lodged to my spine? To the median magica?'

Again Severus seemed surprised.

'Yes… and where did you read about the median magica?', he asked sternly.

'Well… Aunty Hermione is a medi witch … so she has lots of books on magical anatomy.'

Severus sighed.

'You really … well, never mind. Yes. it did lodge itself onto the main magical energie channel in you. To be able to do that it had to be powerful, and yet not too powerful or it would have left damage on the way to your spine. So it had to contain its power before releasing it when close to the median. At the same time we know it entered your body with the asphodel as agent which usually does not carry dark magic. And we know it had multiple layers that allowed it to create images. Can you think of a way to accomplish all this.'

The boy looked thoughtful and had drawn his eyebrows togethers in a gesture of deep concentration. Sophie felt almost sorry for him. It was clear to him that Severus was testing him and of course he did not want to fail in the eyes of his hero.

A moment later his expression changed, but he did not answer immediately, he seemed to keep thinking, following an idea and testing it in different ways to see if it really suited the problem. Severus would like this attitude, she was sure of it. He never appreciated if someone just blurted out with something that did not seem thought through.

In the end he looked Severus straight into the face and said:

'I think it could be done if the curse had another layer that made it seem like light magic and that dissolved after it had fulfilled its purpose, which was to let the curse stick to the asphodel.'

Severus nodded appreciatively.

'A reasonable thought. It was my assumption also.'

The boy seemed to glow with the praise of his hero, even though to Sophie it didn't really sound like praise at all.

But her attention was drawn away from their conversation when the door opened and two tall blond men came in. One she recognised as Mr. Malfoy whom they had met earlier. The other she assumed to be his son. The likeness was unmistakable even when the younger man sported a full blond beard in almost the same style as Severus'. A hushed silence fell over the room and Sophie noticed that all eyes had turned to the two newcomers. She saw frowns and people half rising from their seats. Especially the Weasleys present didn't seem to be too happy. Even Mr. Weasley, whom Sophie had assumed was just a good humored elderly gentleman, looked ready to start a fight. Thankfully Hermione leapt up to take charge.

'Mr. Malfoy, Draco! How nice to see you. Won't you come over and join us for some eggnog.'

Draco smiled and seemed ready to say yes but his father was faster.

'Thank you, Mrs..eh… Weasley, but we are not here to partake in merriment, tempting as your offer may be.'

The look on his face said the offer was anything but tempting and Sophie's opinion of him was confirmed: he was an arrogant ass.

'We have merely come to discuss some business with Severus. So if you could manage to prise yourself from your dear wife's side for a moment…', he let the sentence trail off.

Sophie could see Severus' annoyance but he didn't say anything when he rose to join father and son. Harry got up as well but when he joined the group, Malfoy senior said in a very condescending way: 'I cannot remember having asked you to join us, Mr. Potter.'

This gave Severus a chance to put Malfoy in his place and he didn't waste a second to do so.

'He is with us, Malfoy, get over it.'

Malfoy looked ready to argue but Severus was already out of the door.

When the door opened again it was only Harry and Severus who returned.

'Got rid of the git, did you, Harry', Charly said when Harry passed behind his chair.

While Severus took his seat next to Sophie again, Harry answered.

'Yes, well, in a way I'm glad the "git" came over. He had some interesting information.'

'You mean you know who attacked little Albus?', asked Teddy Lupin.

'Yes, we have a good idea where to look.'

'Great, just give me a moment. I will just floo over to Granny and let her know. Then I'm ready to go.'

'Go where?'

'With you. Making those Bastards pay for what they did.'

'Sorry, Teddy, but you're not coming.'

'What?'

'Sorry mate, but this will be a small scale operation and it's best if Ron, Mr. Snape and I handle this ourselves.'

Teddy's protests were drowned out by the objections of most of the Weasleys present.

'I'm sorry everybody, but it is for the best. Until we know what or who it is we are up against here, it really doesn't make sense to bring in the full army.'

'Harry, you cannot possibly be thinking of taking these people on alone? From what I remember you told us there were 7 attackers all together at Snape's home and even though you locked them up you cannot assume that these were the only followers. On the contrary, I think if they could spare 7 of their men to chase an unconfirmed suspicion, it must mean they have plenty more people.'

'I agree, but for the moment all we want to do is find out more about the situation. It it a reconnaissance mission so to speak.'

'Oh yeah? You did tell Snape, right?', George interjected while he looked with a smile at the man in question. Severus just lifted an eyebrow at him.

'We have agreed that we will just go to the location Malfoy has named and see if we can find out more details. It is not even a sure trail, we are guessing here. We might get there and find nothing and nobody at all.'

'Yes, or you might end up facing a whole nest of Death Eaters. I'm sorry, Harry, but this doesn't sound good to me. These people are dangerous and they will be expecting some form of reaction from us.'

Mrs. Weasley was making a very good point, thought Sophie.

'Maybe she is right', she said quietly to Severus. He frowned and shook his head in disbelief and rolled his eyes upwards. The things he did for this woman.

'Well, maybe we should take Arthur, Charles and Bill along. Just to cover our backs.'

Harry looked up in astonishment.

'However, I named you because I expect you to be able to act responsibly and not lose your heads. You will move silently and stay behind us at all times. Are we understood?'

The three nodded at once. Teddy Lupin however looked mutinous.

'I can move silently and I'm at least as good as duelling as Charly.'

'You wish', came Charlies' reply.

'I knocked you on your backside at Ginny's birthday, mate.'

'This is different Teddy', Harry tried to explain, 'these people don't keep to duelling rules. They cast to kill.'

'I know. I can handle it. Come on, Harry, I am older than you were when you took on Voldemort. You of all people should understand.'

Harry suddenly looked at the young man with hard glint in his eyes. He spoke with an equal edge in his voice.

'Yes, I was younger than you are now when I had to face Voldemort. When I had to see my friends die and witness destruction and death all around me. And, by Merlin, I would have wished for someone to come and tell me to stay at home and let others handle it. Because it scared the living shit out of me.'

Ginny gasped and gave him a nudge with her elbow.

'I'm sorry but it's the truth. I had no choice. You do. And you should be grateful that you have a little more time to prepare yourself, to grow up and enjoy a life that is not marred by the memories of watching people suffer and die. And that's the last I will say to this.'

Teddy rose with an angry face and went over to the fireplace. Throwing a pinch of floo powder in the flames he practically yelled some address and was gone in the next instant.

'Don't you think you were a bit hard on him there, Harry?'

'No, Ginny. He is very much like his father in many ways. And sometimes he just needs his head put right. He will calm down again. And I will go and see him when this is through. I promise.'

Severus was meanwhile studying Harry from across the table. He had changed considerably. Maybe there was some hope that he was not going to blow this mission after all.


	54. Chapter 54

They arrived on a hillside. Darkness made it impossible to see further than a few meters. There was no snow, being much further south. The wind was howling but Severus thought it a good omen since the sound would cover up their approach.

Charlie was whispering something to his brother Bill. Severus turned sharply and caught everybody's attention with a short gesture of his right hand. When all eyes were on him he gestured for everybody to be silent and for Harry and Ron to come forward to him. He took them by the elbows and stirred them to the northern edge of the hill. To their left along the slope they could make out a small road which was wedged between dry stone walls on either side. They had apparently ended up in some pasture, he just hoped it wasn't for bulls. The road ended in the yard of a small farmstead. The little cottage on the northern side of the yard, which they were facing, looked debilitated and bleak, even in the dark. A light was shining through one of the windows though. It seemed quite small when considering the distance to the cottage. But it was an indication that someone was around. He saw the two by his side had come to the same conclusion. They turned back to the others and he paired Charly with Potter, Bill with Ron and motioned for Arthur to stand by his side. Then he crouched down and with his fingers he drew a rudimentary map into the grass. He motioned for Harry and Charly to approach from the eastern side, Ron and Bill from the western side and for Arthus and himself straight on from the south.

The other two teams would need more time to be in place so he silently sent them on ahead while he and Arthur waited for a moment before they set in motion as well. There was no cover for them but Severus veered to the left to follow Ron and Bill to the street and while they had passed already to the other side of the road and over that side's dry stone wall into the next pasture, himself and Arthur stayed on the road. He would not hide from these bastards, they might as well see what was coming to them.

They tracked down the road at a good pace. Severus was trying hard to feel any kind of magical trace that would indicate magical protections on the place. He was fairly certain they would be there. If he couldn't feel them, it either meant the wizard in residence was skilled and powerful or felt so sure of themselves that they thought protection unnecessary. He was prepared for both. What he could feel was the tingling sensation of adrenaline. The excitement before battle. His heart rate picked up, his awareness seemed heightened and his muscles were tense. He felt like a beast readying to strike. And in a way it was so. He would strike them so hard they would never dare to come anywhere near his family again.

They got closer and closer to the yard. It was surrounded by a wall. Left and right of it were the remains of old stables and other farm outbuildings. Not much more than piles of rubble. The road let right through the double gates of the farm yard. When they were near enough he motioned for Arthur to follow him to the wall and let him along to the gates left side, cautiously peering at the cottage from their cover. As far as he could tell, they had not yet set of any magical alarms, but that was a tricky business anyway so one could never be certain. He took a moment to take in the layout of the farm yard and memorize the precise location of everything. The entrances to the stables on the left. The roof had come down but the walls would still afford some cover, though nothing a good blasting spell couldn't take down. Opposite was a building that seemed to have housed the farm machines. The side facing the street had collapsed as well and taken half the roof down with it. He could spot the skeletons of an ancient tractor and some other machines he did not recognise. The yard was quite spacious and free of any debris. Someone had take care to ensure clear firing opportunities at any enemy coming from the front. If they approached this way they would not make it further than five, maybe six steps towards the house. But they would find out very soon that he was not planning on playing by their rules. He pointed his wand at his throat and spoke the sonorus charm. Then he aimed and shot a blasting curse right into the middle of the cottage front door. It seemed to shake the building. He was sure he had their attention now.

'This is Severus Snape speaking. You have assaulted my family. I do not take kindly to such actions. However, if you leave your wands in the cottage and come out with your hands raised above your heads, I will consider leaving you alive.'

He received no answer to his little speech. There was no reaction whatsoever. Well, if they wanted it the hard way, he was more than happy to oblige. He withdrew from watching the front door and motioned for Arthur to retreat slightly to the left, back along the road. Then he stood back behind the yard's wall and concentrated on the last five feet of it joining the gate to his right. With an almost inaudible incantation the wall begun to shudder, cracks appeared to the left and when he slowly raised his hands, the stretch of the wall along with the left wing of the gate rose into the air. First only a few centimeters, he wasn't willing to give up his cover but as he directed it closer to the cottage, he also levitated more, little by little. It was a demonstration of power. It took great skill and concentration to keep the individual stones tightly together and move them as the solid mass that the wall was. It would serve two purposes: they would get an idea who they had pissed off and he would use it to either trap them in the cottage or break down the front half of it, depending on how stable the old building still was. It would force them to show themselves.

The last few meters he rushed the wall, picking up speed so that the impact would be increased. Then, when the wall crashed into the portion of the cottage sporting the front door, everything suddenly seemed to happen at once.

Bits of the overhanging roof came down while a blast from the inside threw some of the wall's stones back into the yard. Men came rushing out, firing spells wildly without aim. Severus and Arthur remained behind the cover of the last bit of wall on the left side of the yard. From behind the stables he could hear Ron and Bill firing, Potter and Charlie were coming from just behind the right side of the cottage. That meant nobody was covering the back of the house. Severus motioned for Arthur to hold this position and withdrew a few feet further along the wall. He used the little trick the Dark Lord had taught him and rose into the air as a black cloud of smoke. He rushed through the nearest window into the cottage. He materialised in what seemed to have been a sitting room, to his right there was the hall were still men were rushing outside to meet their attackers. He came for them behind. A strong incantation brought up a powerful blast of wind that sent them flying half way across the yard. They all landed in a heap and were immediately stunned by spells from Potter's side of the yard. He surveyed the situation from the door. Some seemed to have managed holing up in the stables and some in the ruins with the machinery. That could become dangerous should any of them get the idea to move those into the battle. He signaled Arthus and indicated for him to crash the rest of the building. Arthus seemed shocked but when Severus pointed a short blast at the sharp blades of one of the machines Arthur seemed to understand. He would bring it down alright, Severus was sure he didn't want to risk losing another son. He turned and looked about. There was another small room to his right. He peered in cautiously but it was empty. The narrow staircase in the hall would lead to the upper rooms, but he was fairly certain there would be nobody up there. The best exit for anyone trying to get away undetected would be around the back somewhere. He slowly made his way down the hall, where he found another door, open, leading into a kitchen. Through there was a door with two glass panes leading into the garden. It was closed. He took a good look around. Severus could make out the sounds and cries of the battle outside. There had been no figure that had struck him as the leader in the group that had left the house in this mad rush. No one that seemed to stand out or seemed to have been protected by the others. He was still here somewhere, he must still be here. The old kitchen hearth was cold. No fire. A small door to the right of it. Maybe a pantry. The stone flagged floor was giving nothing away. If he was to hide in such a place he would never rely on the buildings original layout. He would create an unseen and unexpected addition to conceal in times of attack. But where would he place it? The stone floor was certainly an option but creating a space into the ground underneath a building without bringing it down was hard work. Even for a skilled wizard. Maybe there was a cellar? In that case only the entrance to it would have to be concealed. Not too difficult then and with a underground rooms already in existence an enlargement of those would be child's play. So where to look for such an entrance? He checked the sink and the cupboard underneath it. No magical traces of concealment charms. The set of cupboards on the side opposite of the hearth revealed nothing as well. The pantry then. He went into the little storage space and turned. There. On the wall to the left of the door. He spoke a spell but nothing was revealed. Well, it would have been to simple with a standard detection spell. But no great challenge for Severus. He tried a few spells he had in his extensive repertoire. There, he should have known. A dark spell which called on the purity of wizard blood made the wall shine. So it would have to be a blood offering of a pure blood. Clever. He conjured his Patronus, keeping his eyes on the wall all the time to make sure whoever was hidden behind it would not suddenly break out. Without looking at it he told it to fetch Bill Weasley. Then he waited, his wand trained at the wall all the time. Bill was the best choice. He was pure blood and as a former curse breaker, he wouldn't have to waste much time explaining a blood offering. Bill arrived within the minute.

'I guessed it was you but that's some impressive Patronus you have there…'

Severus briefly wondered what he was referring to. Surely Bill knew his doe? But he had no time to wonder at the moment.

'Mr. Weasley, I will need some of your blood to open a concealed entrance if you please.'

'Certainly , Profes… I mean Mr. Snape.'

He readily held out his right arm.

'The left arm please, we would not want to weaken you unnecessarily. Your brother will undoubtedly still need your assistance.'

Without comment Bill quickly offered his left arm. With a quick flick Severus drew a small wound across the arm and with another he threw some of the blood that had started to come forth, onto the wall. He spoke an incantation and the floor beneath them began to tremble.

'Will you still need me, Sir?'

'No, you can return to your position.'

To hell with reconnaissance. If he found someone down there he would deal with this little upstart, this self proclaimed new Dark Lord, alone.


	55. Chapter 55

The wall slid upwards and seemed to disappear into the ceiling, revealing a narrow staircase leading downwards. He carefully stepped onto the first step. When nothing happened he began a slow and careful descent.

The stairs led into a large room which was illuminated by torches fastened to the walls. The floor was sandy and in the middle was a ring of stone with a fire pit inside. On the far side he saw some kind of emblem etched into the wall. What he could make out of it was a skull with two wands crossed in front of it. Before this emblem he saw a figure with the back turned to him. It stood motionless with hands behind the back and legs spread shoulder width apart. Probably trying to look impressive, Severus thought. The figure was slim and not too tall. Clad in a long black leather coat and with black hair styled back across it's head, it looked more like some of those muggles who pretended to have dark powers and liked gathering on cemeteries. Oh, Severus was going to enjoy this. But he mustn't underestimate his opponent just because he looked like an idiot. He would not let his guard slip in overconfidence.

He left the last step and walked slowly and confidently towards the fire pit in which a small fire was burning. The figure never turned, even when he had almost reached it but a smooth and young voice addressed him.

'I saw your little demonstration with the wall. Impressive. I was curious as to whether you were really as powerful and dangerous as people said. Seems you do have a certain level of competence.'

That little brick had nerves. Severus made sure to snort loudly enough for him to hear it.

'Big words for a nobody.'

'Oh, but of course. Please forgive me. I should have introduced myself properly.'

With that he turned around and Severus felt his breath leave his body. He looked right into the younger face of the Dark Lord. He had seen it on photographs from year books and the like. For an instance, he could only stare. The young man seemed to find it amusing. He smiled as if he had been expecting this reaction.

'You seem surprised. But in all honesty, this expression makes you look stupid, you had better recover.'

Severus pulled himself together. The little git was right, it wouldn't do to let him have an advantage.

'I see you do not only have a level of magical competence but also an acceptable amount of self control. I can see why my father thought so highly of you.'

'Your father?'

'Surely you must realise that I am not the Dark Lord himself.'

He was smiling as Severus began to slowly circle the fire pit. He did not move but kept watchful eyes on Severus.

'The Dark Lord might have made himself a new body but I cannot believe that he also managed to re-create his ability to father an offspring… not to mention the fact that it would have taken a female to take part in this. He wasn't exactly pleasing to the eye in his last few years…even by my standards.'

Severus gave him his best sneer. Let's see how he reacts when the taunting comes back to him. And he received what he had expected.

'My father was the greatest wizard of all times. Normal standards did not apply to him in any respect. He could have had any woman he wanted, because they all knew he was the master of death. He was their master and lord.'

'Yes, but as I said… he had recreated a body...he could walk, talk, perform magic… but fathering a child takes a certain act which I am not sure he could still perform… even if he had ever found a witch crazy enough to let him have a go.'

Again Severus smiled condescendingly.

'So, you will understand my reserve. I do not believe for one moment you are his son. You are an imposter. And it will be my pleasure to put you back into the stinking hole of which you crawled out of.'

'You… how dare you…'

'Well, let's keep this simple. If you are his son, surely your mother can testify to it?'

'My mother is dead, traitor!'

He was beginning to get louder. A good sign. He would lose it soon enough and then it would be time to see how much he really had to offer.

'Oh...poor you. So there is no one to back your claim? Well, I rest my case. Or maybe you would just claim that your mother is dead? I mean, what woman in her right mind would willingly fuck Voldemort.'

It had cost him to be able to speak the name. He did it on purpose. To refuse to call him the Dark Lord, as he usually did out of habit, was to refuse to recognise his greatness. He would drive him to make the first move. Anger in a wizard duel was never a good adviser.

'My mother was a devoted follower of the highest rank! She was his right hand and he valued her abilities and her cunning!'

'A woman of the highest rank? Sorry boy, but that wasn't exactly Voldemort's style. Women weren't brutal enough for his taste. In fact, there was only ever one woman he had anything like regard for. And she was completely barmy.'

'My mother was not barmy!'

A first hex flew in his direction, but what surprised him more was the realisation that was dawning on him now.

'Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange? Really?'

He was laughing out loud now. Partly to taunt the boy, partly because the image of Bellatrix Lestrange in the throws of passion with the Dark Lord only gave him two choices: to laugh or to throw up. He decided throwing up would not be helpful in the current situation.

'Yes! Bellatrix Lestrange, his most loyal servant.'

'His most demented servant, you mean. That woman was a psychopath if ever I saw one. Her madness was only rivaled by that of Voldemort himself!'

'DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK OF MY PARENTS LIKE THAT!'

The small fire in the fire pit suddenly roared to the low ceiling of the cellar and then shot towards Severus.

This was child's play. He erected a deflecting shield before him and with another silent spell collected the flames into a huge fiery ball that he threw back at his attacker.

Apparently the little prick wanted to show off a bit and turned the ball of heat into a ball of ice. It crashed to the floor only for it's shards to be raised up again seconds later coming at Severus like a thousand sharp and flying daggers.

Out of the ground Severus raised a wall of heat and the ice shards never managed to reach him. A tenth of a second later he had moved himself to get behind the boy and addressed him again.

'If you're trying to impress you will have to do a little better than this.', he sneered. It was time to make him understand who was the alpha in this cellar.

He drew another shield up to guard himself from the surprised hex the boy threw upon realising Severus had changed his position. Than he recited a complicated but quick incantation and stepped back with an evil grin on his face as the ground began to rumble.

The boy hadn't realised yet what was happening and jeered.

'Oh, so you can make the ground shake. I am truly worried now. Why do you retreat? Is that already it?'

Just as he was advancing on Severus, a mount sprouted out of the dirt of the cellar floor. The boy took a surprised leap backwards and watched with a gaping mouth as a head seemed to form, followed by hands that seemed to heave a heavy body out of the ground which seconds before had still been a solid floor. The figure emerging out of nowhere grew bigger and bigger as it seemed to climb out of a non existent hole. Severus remained silent. And stepped into the shadows. He knew that any sound now would only attract unwanted attention. The boy, however, did not know that.

' What the f…!', he shouted and the gigantic and due to the low ceiling bowed figure turned an ugly clay head on him. Some symbols were etched into its forehead and its eyes seemed to be sightless. Its hearing though worked well enough.

He turned and advanced on the supposedly new Dark Lord who had lost his composure for the moment.

Severus used the chance and edged towards the stairs. He turned his voice into a soft whisper that seemed to be carried on a breeze through the cellar allowing neither the creature nor his enemy to pin his position.

'So Dark Lordling, what are you going to make of this? The golem will eat you alive, tearing you to pieces limp by limp and feed on your entrails. I wish you luck. You will need it. For a quick death that is.'

He allowed a soft and yet nasty laughter to ring out after his little speech while the young wizard was backing further and further away from the clay creature all the while firing one spell after another at it wildly. Bits of clay sprung off at random, not doing much damage but only infuriating the golem more.

Severus slowly ascended the stairs, trying to remain as much in the shadows as possible. He made it to the level where he would be quickly out of the cellar but could still see what was happening within. The golem was mercilessly advancing on the boy. He now stood with his back against the wall, his face contorted by rage and fear.

'Snape! You will pay for this! I will have your live. And before I kill you I will have you witness your girlfriend's death. I will think of the most horri…'

The golem had taken him by the front of his leather coat and lifted him up as if he were a doll. The boy was almost touching the ceiling with his head as the golem held him so that he could take a good look at what had tormented him with stinging hexes.

The boy probably lost his nerve completely when the golem made to open his mouth and with a terrified shriek he directed a blast right into the creature's face. The golem dropped him in anguish and roared while the boy made it to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs while firing a huge blast at the ceiling right above the golem's head.

More rumbling and a millisecond later the ceiling was beginning to give in. Severus quickly retreated upstairs when he felt it coming. The tightening of his muscles, the shivering that announced another one of his collapses.

No, no, no… not now. He made it back into the kitchen. If the boy caught him in this state he would be history. And he would never see Sophie again. He needed to make it to the front of the cottage. The others could protect him while he was out. But the cellar was right under the floor of the corridor that let through the cottage and to the front door. If the ceiling collapsed, he would be buried underneath all the rubble. The decision was taken from him when the wall to the sitting room suddenly swayed and then disappeared in a huge hole in the ground. He could hear the boy behind him jeering as he ran out the backdoor. At least he had not noticed Snape's current state. Not that it would change much. He only managed to stumble back against the outer wall of the kitchen when his muscles seized up and left him unable to do anything but sink to the ground in a twitching heep. He gasped for breath, trying desperately to stay conscious while the floor was still shaking underneath him. If the outer wall collapsed on top of him he would be done for. But he couldn't move. His body was not obeying. Instead the pain of the seized up muscles build into a blinding curtain, shutting out light and sound alike. So this was it then? Well… at least he had died fighting.


	56. Chapter 56

**Sorry everybody, had to do some corrections on this chapter. Here is the updated version.**

Harry was trying to keep two opponents at bay while Charly was defending their left flank from an advancing tractor. The new Death Eaters had had the truly mad idea to charm the farm machines. Two of them had themselves been run over by a rampant harrow, ending up pierced by its spikes. The ancient harvester was chasing three others while Bill and Ron had retreated to the partially collapsed roof and fired hexes at some Death Eaters who had climbed the roof of the cottage. Dodging hexes while trying to avoid farm machines was quite a task and Harry only noticed the trembling of the ground a split second before he saw the roof of the cottage give in. The two Death Eaters on top cried out in surprise and fear before they were swallowed by the gaping maw, which had appeared were only moments before the picturesque cottage had stood. The two that had been concentrating on Harry turned tail when the harrow next focused on them. That was those Death Eaters taken care off. He signaled to Charly to move across the yard to get out of the tractors way and join Bill and Ron on top of the roof. As they ran he tried to keep an eye out for Mr. Weasley. Where was he? They made it to the roof where Ron and Bill were trying to stop the tractor from making the leftover structure of the old barn collapse.

'Ron, d'you know where your father is?'

'Last saw him going into the building opposite. Not seen him since.'

'I'll go check on him.'

'Wait, I'm coming with you', announced Bill.

They balanced along the beams of the uncovered part of the roof to get to the far wall and jumped down. Savely out of the way of the machines, they made to run across the yard when a movement in the corner of his eyes made Harry stop in his tracks. The ground hadn't stopped shaking since the cottage collapsed and actually that should have been a warning in itself. But now he saw the rubble move. He motioned for Bill to follow him and carefully they advanced towards the remains of the house. A huge hand shot up out of the rubble and a second later a brown and ugly head emerged.

'Merlin! What on earth…?'

'On the roof, Harry, Bill, get back on the roof!'

Mr. Weasley came sprinting towards them shouting at the top of his lungs. Harry was frozen to the spot. Never in his life had he seen anything like this. Two unseeing, small eyes under a massive brown brow, a nose that seemed like smacked flat against the skull and a whole without lips growling furiously and showing teeth the size and look of large pebbles. Mr. Weasley had reached them and grabbed both his son and Harry by the sleeves, making them turn and run back towards the roof with him. The creature was growing larger and larger every time Harry looked back at it. Surely the feet would have to appear any moment now. It couldn't possibly grow any taller. But he was wrong. Only when they had made it safely back onto the roof, the creature had freed itself from the remains of the cottage and stood at its full height. Without too much effort, that thing could pick each of them off the roof with its strong arms. And now that is was fully drawn up, the head seemed ridiculously small.

'What on earth is that?' Harry asked into the stunned silence.

'That is a Golem, Harry, and we shouldn't make too much noise now because although they cannot see very well, Golems have very good hearing and trust me we don't want to attract its attention, so everybody stay as silent as you can', Mr. Weasley whispered to the group.

The Death Eaters Mr. Weasley had been engaging in the opposite barn had no idea of what was going on when they inched forward to check the situation. One of them was so unfortunate to collide with a structure of old wooden boxes. A small old oil barrel which had been kept in one at the top, crashed down and the Golem's head spun in there direction. They didn't seemed to know what they were facing. Amidst a lot of swearing and cursing they were desperately firing hexes. But again they just seemed to bounce off and not produce any result other than the thing getting angrier and angrier. Mr. Weasley used the commotion to gather everybody on the roof around him.

'We need to perform the proper ban to get rid of it. I will tell you know exactly what to do and you will then as quietly as possible take up your positions, understood?'

'Has anyone seen Snape?', asked Harry before Mr. Weasley could continue.

'Yes, he is...oh Shit!'

'What is it, Bill?'  
'I last saw him in the house. He wanted me to help him open a hidden door.'

They all looked at each other in horror. Mr. Weasley was the first to pick up the lost and very hushed conversation again.

'Well, at the moment there is very little we can do. We need to get rid of that thing and then we will go looking for him. It is not impossible that he made it out. You all know he is a very cunning man. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if it was his idea to set that thing loose. I`m sure he is around here somewhere.'

They closely listened to what he next explained while the Golem was trying to get to the left-over Death Eaters while being attacked by the old rusty farm machines, who had now chosen him as their favourite target.

It would be more difficult than Harry had expected to get rid of the huge clay form. The Golem was a creature of jewish mythology and as such the ban had to be spoken in old jiddish, everybody had to remember the exact words. Harry just hoped that Ron would manage. He didn't worry about Bill and Charlie as they had both worked abroad and spoke multiple languages, but Ron had never had to memorize more than a few spells, and with the more exotic ones he had always had to try multiple times to get the pronunciation and the wording right. They had to form a circle, usually of six to represent the corners of the Star of David, so they needed to be evenly spaced. That brought on another problem. They were only five at the moment since Snape was nowhere to be seen. And then they would have to start the incantation at exactly the same moment. This would not be easy. Especially not since they had to leave the roof for this and the farm machines and Death Eaters were still around. Harry suggested that they should try to hover while speaking the ban, so that they could at least avoid the farm machines, but Mr. Weasley said that would take too much of their focus and that the machines were currently busy with the Golem anyway. He was more worried about the Death Eaters, but there was nothing for it. The Golem had to be tackled first. They decided to give it a try without Snape, hoping he would catch up in time.

Harry and Mr. Weasley insisted upon taking the side of the star that would be closest to the Death Eaters. They couldn't make out where exactly they were hiding at the moment, but everyone was certain they were still around on the other side of the farm yard. Ron, Charlie and Bill would take up the remaining three positions and when the Golem was banned they would immediately regroup to advance into the opposite structure to avoid the machines and to tackle the remaining Death Eaters.

The Golem was meanwhile roaring in raging frustration at the farm machines while trying with its considerable strength to somehow destroy them. The harrow had most of its spikes bent in any and every direction and the tractor was steaming from under its now very dented hood like a steam train.

They all gave each other one last look, conveying to each other the wish to get out of this alive and unharmed, then they turned and everybody hurried to take up their respective positions without attracting the attention of the Golem.

On Mr. Weasley's count of three they all started the chanting, from the first moment with all the might their lungs had to offer. The Golem stopped banging the tractor with a painful scream and pulled his massive hands desperately to his ears. The farm machines, battered as they were, saw their chance come at last and renewed their efforts in attacking the creature. The Golem screamed more and more, the longer the chanting lasted. He swayed from side to side, still trying frantically to block his ears. He sank to his knees and slowly but surely he tried to bury his head in the ground from which he had sprung forth. But the five did not let up and the farm machines, now sensing victory, kept happily chipping bits of clay away with every new attack.

Harry could already hear that his voice was getting hoarser, something he noticed in his companions as well. They wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. It seemed, they all had this very thought because with a last effort, they all raised the volume of their chanting another notch and gave it all they had.

Lights started to appear at the tips of their wands. Blue and brightly they formed beams and weaved a net of lines that connected each wand with two others. The lines formed the Star of David with one position empty in which centre the Golem had now given up trying to protect his ears and was screaming in agony up into the night sky. The blue lines became thicker and thicker and engulfed the Golem entirely until he could not be seen anymore. In the blinding brightness the farm machines rushed forward one last time and in a massive explosion clay and machines parts were flying through the air, turning into deadly missiles. They each quickly drew up a protective shield but a yelp from his right let Harry know that at least one of them hadn't been fast enough.

When the light was gone and the dust had settled, there was nothing left in the centre but the two smoking remains of the old farm machines.

Harry hurried forward, as always worried about who might have gotten hurt. Bill and Charlie advanced towards Mr. Weasley to keep to the plan. They needed to find the remaining Death Eaters. So it had to be Ron.

'I'll check on Ron. we'll catch up with you, just go ahead.'

They nodded at each other and Harry hurried on. He found Ron about to get up from the ground.

'You alright mate?'

'Yeah, no worries. Just got caught by some… whatever that is.'

He pointed at a large piece of machine which Harry guessed must have been some part of the motor.

'Wow, that hit you in the head? Let me do a quick check on you.'

He stopped him from getting up and said a quick spell to find injuries. In Auror training, it was one of the most important lessons to be able to help comrades in need. They had had a very thorough medical training and it had paid off since mortality rates in action had dropped considerably.

'Nothing broken, you'll just have a fine headache until we can get you to Poppy. Listen mate, I'll help you over there, you lean against the wall andrest. Keep an eye out for you father and brothers, I'll go and have a look at the cottage. See if I can find Snape.'

'Shouldn't you go help with the Death Eaters?'

'They don't need me for that. They are more than capable to deal with these idiots. But if Snape was alright, he would have turned up to help us, I'm sure. If he is stuck in this pile of rubble somewhere, we need to find him.'

He helped Ron to his feet than walked him to the wall of the roofed machine barn.

'Tell your Dad where I've gone. I might need help should I be able to find him.'

'That old git is probably sitting right behind that pile and waits for us to tell him we got rid of his monster.'

Harry gave a short laugh. He didn't think so. Snape was not the man to run from a fight. If he hadn't shown up yet, it was because he couldn't. He needed help, Harry was sure. He just hoped he would find him in time.


End file.
